Come What May

by DC Luder

Sixth story in the Series of Three. Not long after having their world turned upside down, the Family must face the combined threat of an old foe and friend. Chapter 13: When push comes to shove...

2. Come What May: II

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: Not all of the Family knows what happened after the wedding in July. Until now.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Pauly D shout out. I love him.

^V^

For the one millionth time, I told Dick his cuff links were in the top right drawer of our dresser.

For the one millionth and first time, I listened to the pleading words of Talia al Ghul...

Being the master of all things that telecommunicated, I had spent my summer diligently chipping away at the transmission I had come across at the beginning of July. When I had originally found it, I thought it had been some shielded government message that would be fun to play with and translate. I often spent rare, quiet moments at night practicing breaking into federally protected networks and hacking into high-end, classified e-mails. They were puzzles, meant to be examined, assembled and completed.

With Superman and the Martian Manhunter zooming around the city the night after the wedding reception, crime had been at a one night, all time low. Dick and Ethan had already gone to bed, leaving me alone with my keyboards and the transmission. It had been easy to figure out that the initial cover language was Kurdish, the words nothing but incoherent ramblings. Finding the digital audio map beneath had taken a whopping hour and half, and it had only taken so long because I had interspersed it with a concurrently running game of Dr. Mario.

It had been all fun and games until I had finally cracked it and heard Talia's voice…

Dick suddenly called out to me again from the bathroom but I couldn't understand a word he was saying. Rather than hiding away in my lair of electronics, I had opted to go mobile, bringing a charged laptop with me into the living room. With it being just after seven, Tim and Cass weren't due to hit the streets for at least another hour, spending their after-dinner time beating the crap out of Mattie Elizabeth Wayne.

Occasionally, it was the other way around.

Rather than continue shouting back to one another, I waited for Dick to make the right move and actually make his way down the hall. I was curled up on the couch with Ethan as he chewed on a plush coral fish that he called Memo, his version of Nemo. He was a year and a half old, n's were still his nemesis. While he soothed his teething woes, I had been tooling around on the laptop, sending some older files to the backup crays and checking out possible Christmas gifts on eBay. I ordered an Uno Attack card shooter for Nathan as Dick finally appeared in the open archway. He leaned over the back of the couch and said, "Cool…"

"Not for you."

"Oh man…" he sighed practically in my ear. When I asked him if he found his cuff links, he replied, "I found cuff link. If I can't find the other one, I'll just go to that place on Emmerson Ave tomorrow during lunch."

Where I had made sure that my attire was ready for the following night's event at the beginning of the week, Dick had naturally waited until the last second. I looked over my shoulder, "You have another pair. I think you have three other pairs."

"And they are MIA as well. Actually, the one I found is probably the one I had lost last year… I think I put the rest of them up for safekeeping somewhere."

"Forget physical therapy, Dick, you need to start hanging out with Bruce when he's working on short term memory."

"Har dee har har," Dick said as he stood upright. After walking around the end table, he sat on the other side of Ethan, "Mommy is on her game tonight, Egg-man."

Ethan offered his father a chance to also chew on Memo but Dick declined as the little coral fish that could needed a desperate dip in the washing machine. Turned down, my son resumed chomping on the poor thing's face.

It was only when I heard the clink of glass on the stone coasters of the end table that I realized Dick had brought two glasses of red wine with him. When he realized my attention was on him, he offered me one and after a faint whiff of its contents, I smiled. As he retrieved his own glass with his right hand, I asked, "The Louis Jadot?"

"Grands Echezeaux. Figured after today, we should celebrate," he added with a smirk. "Cheers."

Our glasses chimed as we toasted above Ethan's head, "Cheers."

There was a need to celebrate. After a two hour evaluation at the orthopedic clinic, including an MRI, complete neurological, reflexive and pain receptor exam of his left arm, Dick was cleared to start more active work in rehabilitation. He had broken the news arriving home that afternoon by taking his injured arm out of its sling and opening the front door, smiling and proudly boasting, "Tah-dah!"

In the coming weeks, he would be able to start mild strength training and limbering exercises before building up his atrophied muscles. Over dinner, he had gone to great length explaining his planned recovery, both with his physical therapist and at home. It had been wonderful seeing the light in his eyes as he talked about the stepping stones back to his former life.

"Dr. Yeoum said he had never seen such a quick recovery, said because I was so fit to start out that it saved some serious lag time."

"Is that right?" I had inquired while dicing up the rest of my pork chop for Ethan.

"Yeah, so really, my good looks saved my ass... or my arm, rather." When I had brought up the fact that he still had to take things nice and slow, he had readily complied, "I know, Babs… I just… I just can't wait to get back out there, you know?"

Knowing he had been battling self-hatred for what had happened to him and Will since the end of April, I had smiled, "Back out there and out of my hair."

After dinner, he had taken Ethan duty, tiring him out along with Frank by playing in the den. I had opted for the kitchen, cleaning up quickly before reaching for the phone. The first call I had made was to Wayne Manor, smiling when Nathan answered the phone before being yelled at by his sister.

"Sorry," Mattie had said when she wrestled it away from him, "He is crazy tonight." As if to punctuate her assessment, I had heard him howling in the background, Ace joining him. She had asked me to hold on before covering the receiver, "Nate, I'm going to tell Dad if you don't stop it."

The howling had turned to growls and then six year old laughter.

When all was quiet, she had finally said, "Want a big brother for Ethan?"

"No thank you, I prefer him to remain an uncle for Ethan," I had snickered, "Is your Dad around?"

Mattie had hesitated briefly before saying, "He's sleeping."

I had instantly looked to the kitchen clock, seeing it was just after six-thirty in the evening. Instinct had me asking, "Is he okay?"

Another pause had followed before a forced lie, "Yeah… he's fine."

Bruce was nearly done with his second week off of anti-convulsant medication before starting on Phenobarbital. Although we all wanted to stay in the loop about his recovery, Bruce had tried his best to keep things under wraps. I hadn't known about the next step in trying to control his seizures until a week after he had stopped the Tegretol. Ethan and I had gone to the Manor for a surprise visit and arrived just after Bruce had suffered a grand mal seizure in the study. Alfred and Selina had been tending to him, leaving a teary eyed Nathan standing in the doorway. After I had corralled him away and tried to get him back to his usual silly self, Selina had found us, looking as if she needed to be cheered up as well.

After assigning her son to get his sneakers from upstairs so they could take Ace to the park, she had come clean about everything. How Bruce had not been handling the cold turkey approach as well as he had hoped and had agreed to stay home from work until he was balanced on new meds. How he had been to Bristol Medical Center twice in the last three days, against his will given that he hadn't regained consciousness after particularly bad episodes.

Fighting back tears herself, Selina had sighed, "Guess this is where 'for better or worse' comes into play."

"It's going to get better, Selina."

"It certainly can't get any worse," she had wiped her eyes carefully, "It's just… seeing him… like that… it's terrifying."

It had sent his willful mother's emotions spinning, no wonder it had been so upsetting for her son.

Before leaving, Selina and I had taken Ethan upstairs where she and Alfred had long since put Bruce to bed. He had still been groggy but put on a good front for his grandson. Ethan rambled on in his own language, bringing a smile to Bruce's face. I had urged my son on, asking him who his new friends were, pointing out the windows as dusk fell outside.

After gasping, Ethan had waved before declaring loudly, "Hi moon! Hi stars! See you!"

Selina had laughed as he had proceeded to repeat himself but Bruce had only allowed a brief smile.

I had wondered if he had another bad night but Mattie's voice quickly directed me away from asking, "Mom's upstairs, I can get her if you want."

"Actually, I was just relaying good news." I had gone on to explain Dick had been given the okay to start the next step in his rehabilitation.

"Really? That's so cool! When did he find out?"

"This afternoon… he'll start next week with his therapist but I bet he'll get a head start this weekend on his own."

She had replied, "That's awesome… Now I'll have someone new to spar with."

From there, I had tried to call Tim and Cass but no one picked up. I left a message with them, as well as with Will. I planned on calling Jim in the morning anyway, so I had figured I could hold out and tell him then. Retrieving the laptop of all laptops from my secure room, I had joined my family in the den only to find that Dick wanted to trade supervision duty.

He had claimed he wanted to make sure he had everything set for Saturday's banquet, but I had a feeling he wanted to get a baseline of his limitations in the training room.

After another sip of the wine, I handed the glass back to Dick, "Whew, good stuff."

"Thank Alfred. He was cleaning out the wine cellar and gave us some of said good stuff," he paused while setting my glass beside his, "So, I take it you are starting your August Christmas shopping."

"I'm working, too," I defended myself, pulling up the audio copy of the transmission.

The smile slipped from his face briefly before he commented, "Ah, that."

"Yes, that."

"Well, if you want to decode Talia's Greatest Hits, I can get this guy settled in for the night."

"One more listen, then I'll be in to help."

He leaned in and kissed me before latching onto Ethan and Memo, "Oh yeah, it's bath time, yeah!"

Alone, I sighed heavily before hitting play.

"I have only moments… but I needed to contact you, to try to warn you… These last fifteen years… my father hasn't been in hiding… he's been preparing… for something dire, something that involves you. And your family."

Hitting pause, I brought up the lengthy report I had been building in not only as to where it had originated from but also as to what it meant. Tim, Dick and I were in agreement that ninety percent of it could automatically be considered a complete lie. Any time she came pleading for help, it was a given that her dear old dad was the puppet master. With nearly fifteen years of silence from the Demon's Head and his acolytes, we had all presumed that the old man had finally found eternal rest having exhausted his collection of Lazarus pits. As if his inactivity hadn't been enough of a clue, the fact that thermo imaging and satellite scans had not been able to detect any active and functional pits made it all the more likely.

It was impossible to keep track of all of his bases and lairs and research centers given his vast fortune and boundless scheme-hatchery, but Bruce had spent the better part of his crime fighting career trying to. Anytime he had encountered Ra's and had either been brought back or kidnapped to a base, Bruce had always managed to escape with IT data that we could use to further our efforts. Having not had so much as a world dominating pip out of him, and it was hard to believe he was simply biding his time.

Pressing play again, Talia continued, sounding more frantic, "Beloved… I can't even begin to explain the things he has done to me… holding me captive… his new ally is a vile man… I need your help, I need you… My father has spent these last years training him… he wants me to wed him but I can't… he's… I couldn't do it to you, beloved, I couldn't… marry an abomination… I could barely look at him without thinking of you, and what you endured for him… before and after he died… Beloved, please, I--."

It cut off just as her voice hitched. Thinking of her recording it in hiding with tears real or fake flowing down her perfect face, sent a chill down my spine. If she wasn't lying, and Ra's had some diabolical plan in the works, then we would have to be ready for anything. If it was a lie and part of said plan, why would Ra's announce himself as opposed to using the element of surprise? There were too many variables, too many unknowns.

Including the unnamed man she spoke of, someone from Bruce's past, someone who was supposed to be dead.

Bruce had taken the transmission seriously, studying it as much as he could given everything that was going on in his life. He and I had many discussions that if the new ally was real, who it could have been. Given Ra's' intimate knowledge of his former enemy, he would have no problem learning about individuals that had stood up against Bruce in the past. The rogue's gallery, save for the Joker, were alive and well, safely tucked away to live out their years in Arkham and Blackgate. Deadshot was in prison in Europe after his botched assassin attempt in Paris, leaving him handless and in custody.

After going through former foes, Bruce had pointed out that it would have to be someone Ra's felt worthy of his time and attention, someone worthy of his daughter and siring an heir to the empire he had built.

"I thought you were the only one that fit that bill," I had suggested one night.

Bruce had sighed, our discussion taking place over the phone rather than the Oracom, "There was another once… Ra's chose him because he had defeated me… but later decided he lacked the finer qualities he wanted… and we don't have his whereabouts. No one does."

I didn't have to ask.

Bruce would admit to having been beat by a number of foes, but he had only been defeated by one.

A Santa Priscan born criminal turned mercenary known only by the name of Bane.

^V^

I looked up at Mattie, bound and hanging upside down ten feet above the training bay's padded floor.

Her face was slightly reddened but the smirk on her lips belied her current predicament. In her previous eight escapes, she had been secured with a varying degree of restraints from simply having ropes around her wrists and ankles to having handcuffs and chains holding her captive. To keep things interesting, I had taken to randomly grabbing her and spinning her, swaying her and even delivering mild blows as she fought for freedom. Every time, she made fast escapes, landing ready to defend herself from her "attacker".

Tim, who had been alternating between observing her and weight lifting, had joked that I should dig out a straight jacket next.

Currently, she was wrapped in cable, loops pinning her arms to her sides while a figure-eight had her ankles tied to one another. It was certainly more difficult from her previous restraints but I was sure it wouldn't pose too big of a hurdle for her. Escape artistry relied heavily on limberness, persistence and focus, each of which she had tenfold.

"Ready?" I asked.

Blindfolded, she looked towards me and grinned, "I doubt a kidnapper would ask me if I was ready to try and escape."

Tim called out from the bench press in a high pitched leer, "You'll never escape, Huntress! Never!"

"That's more like it," Mattie growled before going to work.

I watched on as she began alternating pushing her shoulders up and down before adding motion in her back and hips to create the wiggle room she needed. Within in ten seconds, she had her right arm free and quickly pushed the loops of cable up towards her feet. From there, she undid the knotted cable around her ankles, the stiff material making for strong bonds had she simply strained against them instead of patiently untying them. Gripping the chain that had been suspending her, Mattie slipped her feet out and then gracefully leapt to the ground.

"Ninth time's a charm," she beamed up at me, her eyes still covered.

"Not bad," I nodded.

Tim had made it to his feet as well, approaching as he said, "Not bad at all. Let's do it again. This time, we'll use the rappelling rope. You would think it would have more give but if it's tied tight enough, it's a nightmare to get out of."

Removing her blindfold, Mattie looked to him, "Nine times wasn't enough?"

"Practice makes perfect," I spoke up.

"Yeah, and I've gotten out perfectly every time."

As she had been excelling at her crime fighting lessons, Tim and I had noticed a slight change in her. She was certainly enthusiastic about learning as much as she could, but with each thing she perfected, she seemed to grow bolder. At first, it had been little smart quips, ones that seemed to fit in with the persona of the newest young protégé in the Family. Recently, she had started to question the purpose of certain exercises, something that none of us would have dared to do to Bruce when he had trained us.

The previous night, after Mattie had commented that it seemed pointless to practice walking on hot coals, broken glass and other hazardous surfaces seeing how everyone was always outfitted in thick soled boots. Tim had explained that you had no way of predicting what you would have access to in the field or what you would face. I had added that it was important to learn to control pain and the only way to learn how was to experience it.

Later on during patrols, Tim had asked me if I felt we had been going to easy on her, "I mean, the lessons are strenuous and she is picking everything up… but… I just don't think she's really getting the idea behind it. How dangerous it all is."

I had offered, "She knows the risks. She's seen it first hand. But she's young, thinks she's invincible."

He had taken a moment to respond, "Bruce told her about Jason, how he died."

"I know, but he also told her what Jason was like. How different she is from him when he started out."

He had commented, "Her going into the city, making her damned costume, escaping the Watchtower… staring down the Joker in Crime Alley… she's done more in the last six months than I did in my first year as Robin, practically all on her own."

"Not really. We all helped in some way."

Finally, he had replied, "We're creating a monster, aren't we?"

"A monster for good. Not evil."

Seeing how she was having friends over that evening, I had decided to skip out on our usual afternoon of sparring, gymnastics and weapon training for more escapology lessons. Tim and I had arrived at the Cave just after three in the afternoon and she was already at it on the parallel bars. Dick had given her nearly all of his knowledge in gymnastics, starting when she was a little girl. It showed as her movements were fluid, efficient and effortless.

After two hours of escaping bonds, of which were just the beginning of a series she needed to master, she was bored. Bored enough to be mouthy.

Rather than take the explanative approach again, I was surprised when Tim stepped forward, the smirk fading from his face, "You train with us, Mattie, you do what we say, when we say it. I want you to do it again, you do it. I want you to do it a hundred times after that, you do it."

She tried to play his tone off as a joke by saluting him and responding, "Yes, sir, Batman."

He stepped closer to her and growled, "This isn't a game, Mattie. These exercises are mock ups. They are meant to simulate when you are in actual danger, when you might be bait for me to come rescue or you may be the target yourself. This is so you can learn how to escape serious situations, so you don't end up having your costume in a glass display case, is that understood?"

Mattie didn't have anything to say to that.

Tim's voice softened as he set a hand on her narrow shoulder, "You can't doubt me. Or Cassandra or Dick. We all trust each other with our lives, without question. Out there… if we tell you something, you have to do it, without hesitating."

Her gaze found his face, "I understand."

"Good. Now, there is a black bag of static rope in the cabinets of the costume vault, underneath the rack of grapple guns. Get the one marked seventy-five feet."

Mattie nodded before jogging away.

Alone, Tim asked, "Too mean?"

"Just mean enough," I smiled at him, kissing his cheek before smacking the other, "Tough love, works every time."

He was about to counterstrike but hesitated, his eyes catching something on the main floor of the Cave. I looked up as well to see Bruce stepping out of the elevator, Ace trailing behind him less than a foot. We decided to head up as well and as we climbed the metal stairs, Bruce paused and waited for us to join him.

"Where's Mattie?"

Tim nodded to the costume vault, "Going to get more rope. We've been making her a piñata all afternoon. She's pretty good, even if she isn't filled with candy."

Just then, Mattie emerged from the vault, the black bag over her shoulder. Seeing our guest, she called out, "Hi, Dad!" When she approached us, she roughed up Ace's scruff before adjusting the heavy bag on her shoulder.

Bruce cleared his throat before saying, "Just wanted to come down and make sure you're keeping an eye on the time. Your friends will be here in an hour and a half… and you need to shower and change and-."

"I know, Dad. Just one more escape… then the evidence quiz, right Tim?" she said, looking to each of them.

Tim glanced to Bruce, "Well, we can do that tomorrow. Slides, fingerprints and blood spatter patterns can wait a day."

From the look on our former mentor's face, he had come down to the Cave for more than just checking on his daughter. Knowing it was best for Tim to stay behind and discuss matters with him, I opted to take Mattie back down to the training bay for one last round. Rather than hold her upside down that time, I opted to leave her on the ground, the heavy rope securing her arms to her sides, wrists and ankles tied and her feet drawn up and secured behind her back.

Just mean enough.

As she tried to disassemble the binds, I kept my attention diverted between her efforts and Bruce and Tim up on the main floor. They had made their way to the computer bay, their voices soft and barely carrying down to me. What little I had heard indicated that they were talking about the transmission received earlier in the summer, the one that was presumably from Talia al Ghul.

Regrettably, I had practically no experience with one of the most feared and revered megalomaniacs on the face of the Earth before he disappeared. I had read through reports Bruce had done over a decade earlier that there was no way of knowing whether or not Ra's had actually died or if he was simply waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had lived centuries, certainly fifteen years off the radar was nothing to him.

While Mattie had spent nearly two years reading up on the real history of her Family, I had been doing the same for the last two months. Ra's was not only a powerful figure in his own right, but he also commanded the forces of the League of Assassins. Dick had been kidnapped two decades earlier by Ra's in an attempt to test the worthiness of Batman as a suitor for his daughter. When Bruce had declined, it had set the motion for nearly a lifetime of fighting, ranging from personally attacking one another to attempts at destroying Gotham and the world.

Through it all, Ra's' daughter, Talia, had remained torn between her loyalty to her father and her love for Bruce. She had foiled more of her father's plans to save her "beloved" than thought possible, but oddly enough she also turned on Bruce without warning. There was no denying that her message, coming after fifteen years of silence, was unsettling, especially to Bruce.

Tim had told me about it the morning after our wedding reception, saying Barbara had come upon it earlier but had just been able to decipher it. He had recounted his first experience with Ra's al Ghul when he had still been training to be Robin. Ra's had sent his minions to take Bruce captive and to Tim's surprise, Bruce had gone along fairly willingly. Out of contact for a few brief weeks, Bruce had returned as abruptly as he had left, seemingly no worse for the wear. The file on the crays about the incident was thorough, covering the facts on his brief stint in the compound in Antarctica, his discussions with Ra's as well as his escape and the destruction of the facility. There had been another file about an encounter with Ra's, dated shortly before Tim had started training, but it had been blocked.

When I had brought it up to Tim a few weeks earlier, he had commented, "It's almost like Bruce and the Joker. It's always been dual between them. But at least with Ra's, it is more that he wants Bruce to join the dark side where with the Joker, he wanted to chop Bruce's head off with a rusty spoon."

Once again, he had inherited an enemy who wanted to fight Bruce and not him.

I had only needed to listen to the transmission a handful of times, where Barbara, Bruce and Tim had been listening to it practically nonstop. The woman, who had been verified as Talia through digital dissection, seemed sincerely fearful. Her shallow breathing and fluctuating tone broadcasted as much desperation as the meaning of the words themselves.

Then again, I had always been better looking at someone to determine their emotions as opposed to listening to them…

"Earth to Cassandra…"

I looked away from the computer bay to see Mattie had not only freed herself, but was nearly done wrapping the rope back up.

Before I could say anything, she posed her question again, "What are they doing up there? New case?"

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts more than to answer her, I replied, "No… just the usual stuff."

Mattie studied her father and Tim, caught up in a gravelly discussion, along with Barbara who's image was crystal clear on the main display monitor. "Dad doesn't make that face for anything that's usual."

Before I could stop her, she had bagged the rope and trotted up the stairs, practically in silence. I caught up with her just as she took a step onto the main platform but I had been two seconds too late. Not only had she heard the beginning of the transmission in perfect clarity, she was able to see the images Barbara had brought up of Ra's Al Ghul, Talia and Bane.

Thankfully, I wasn't the only one that was lagging as Tim had been unable to pause the transmission until Talia had already cried, "…he's been preparing… for something dire, something that involves you. And your family."

Tim tried to play it cool, quickly minimizing windows and closing the connection to Barbara as Bruce stepped towards us, leaving his cane against the workstation counter.

"Why don't you put the rope back, then we can call it a day," I offered, trying to usher her towards the vault with a hand on her shoulder.

She was quick to shrug it off, looking up at me briefly before glaring at Bruce and Tim, "What's going on?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Bruce replied, his gaze unwavering and cold.

"Who was that talking?" she pushed on."

Again, Bruce shut her down, "Mattie, it's nothing you need to-."

"The hell it is, she was saying something about someone coming after us, after our Family!"

The Cave was very quiet after Mattie's outcry.

I looked to Tim to see he wore a look of fear on his face that matched my own. It was one thing for her to be sassy with us when we pushed her too hard in her training, it was another thing entirely for her to do so, in addition to swearing, at her father. Regrettably, Mattie did not see the same danger in her actions and simply stared at Bruce with her brow furrowed in anger.

Instead of launching into full Bat-mode, I was surprised to see Bruce speak evenly and calmly, "Go to your room. And be sure to call all of your friends and tell them they are not coming over tonight."

She threw the bag down on the ground forcibly, making it thud loud enough to draw Ace to full attention, "What? That's not fair! You can't-!"

Finally, the growl came from Bruce's lips, one Tim had used earlier but much louder, "Now!"

After she stormed off, I picked the bag up and started to apologize, "I tried to keep her down in the training bay."

Bruce shook his head, "It's not your fault, Cassandra." Without another word, Bruce retrieved his cane, called Ace to heel and then walked back towards the elevator.

When Bruce was out of sight, Tim ran a hand through his hair, finally exhaling, "She should be okay. We just spent all afternoon teaching her how to get out of sticky situations."

^V^

As I raced up the stairs to my bedroom, I promised myself I wouldn't cry.

At the second floor landing when I flew by Alfred, I was doing okay.

By the time I made it to my room, my eyes were hot and my vision was blurry but my cheeks were still dry.

It was after I slammed my door shut and went to lock it that I lost it.

After Dad had knocked my door down back in July, he had it replaced with a new one with a knob that wouldn't lock. I hadn't fought with him at all over the summer, never having to try and lock him out. After having him yell at me for the first time in months, I had no desire in seeing him for the rest of the night. Or weekend. Or ever.

Tears falling in streams over my cheekbones, I heard a soft knock on the door followed by, "Miss Mattie, are you all right?"

Giving up the fight against my sobs, I ignored him and ran to my bed, collapsing face first into the mountain of pillows. Taffy, always willing to cheer me up, rose from her nap at the foot of my bed and strode over to sit by my face. I didn't even want to see her and pushed her away roughly.

It had gone from the perfect day to the worst in a matter of seconds, once again torn to pieces by my father. After enjoying the morning with Mom at the Preserve, I had spent most of the afternoon in the Cave working on the gymnastic equipment before training with Cass and Tim. Even when Tim had yelled at me, I knew I had deserved it, mouthing back instead of doing as ordered. I had known him my entire life and had never seen him angry. I had to find out what his boiling point was, preferably before I became his crime fighting partner.

Although it seemed to surprise him and Cass, I thought it was only natural how quickly I was moving through their lessons. I wanted it more than anything else in the world, why would I waste time goofing off or not giving it my all? Even working with Dad and sometimes Mom had been a breeze, learning the in's and out's of detective work along with breaking and entering undetected. I wanted to make them proud, but more than anything, I wanted to be a real part of the Family.

I wanted to be the Huntress.

And my perfect day had come to a screeching halt upon seeing Dad and Tim obviously debating about something serious. When I had run up to see what was going on, I had instantly recognized the images on the screen belonging to Ra's al Ghul and his daughter Talia, along with the mercenary Bane. Seeing the stern looks on their faces and the images of people who had tried to kill members of my Family. The crays had tons of case files and dossiers on them and their criminal antics over the last thirty years. I had found it interesting that Ra's was practically immortal, able to revive his aged figure as needed using the Lazarus Pit.

Many of the foes that had stood up against my Family had been regular sociopaths and criminals, but Ra's was practically out of comic books. From what I could remember off the top of my head, he had long since desired my father to marry Talia in order to produce the perfect heir to the al Ghul empire. Naturally, Dad had refused, thus making him foe instead of friend.

For years, he and the Justice League had quarreled with Ra's, more often than not ending with the immortal man's "death" and the destruction of whatever world dominating plan he had in action. The last major encounter had been when Ra's had tried to put the world into chaos, disabling the entire Justice League by putting protocols designed by my father into use. The files had been stolen by Talia, who in the end had betrayed her own father in order to help mine.

Order had been restored, Ra's had been lost and the Justice League had expelled Dad for the precautionary measures that had put them all at risk.

Seeing their faces on the screen, hearing the fear in the woman's voice on the speakers and feeling the intensity between my father and Tim… I wasn't a detective yet, but it didn't take much to realize what was going on. If that hadn't been enough to ruin my day, I was yelled at when I wanted to know that my Family wasn't in danger of being attacked again.

The knock sounded on the door again, although it wasn't Alfred's courteous rap-rap. It was the side of my father's fist banging, "Mattie?"

Rolling onto my side, I took a deep breath to push back my sobs long enough to scream, "Go away!"

"Mattie, I need to talk to you."

I was going to scream back at him, but I couldn't draw enough air. In fact, I felt my sobs turning to gasps as my lungs grew tighter and my pants turned to wheezing breaths. In all of my activity through the afternoon, I had forgotten to take my bronchodilators. I never forgot, even as a young child, I always took my inhaler on schedule and took my Theophylline capsules without balking. And the constriction on my chest and the sudden inability to breath were exactly why.

Rather than use what little air power I had to call out to my father, especially since he would let himself in anyway, I rolled off of my bed and knelt before my night table. Frantically looking through the bottom drawer, I did my best to take deep breaths but found it nearly impossible. As my fingertips found my Albuterol, I desperately brought it to my lips and pumped it into my mouth, inhaling as deeply as possible. It wasn't until then that I realized Dad was right behind me, kneeling on his good leg while pulling me back to lean upright against his chest.

As my lungs began to fight back, I heard him whispering in my ear, "Breath in, breath out, Mattie, breath in, breath out…"

I had endured enough asthma attacks to handle them on my own, even those as severe as the one that had me in its grips. From the very beginning, Dad had been there for nearly every single one, doing what he could to help me focus on pushing through it. I recalled the first time I had handled one on my own, it had been during a soccer practice when I was eight. I had told him about it at dinner that night as if I had simply tripped and skinned my knee. Concern had washed over his face, but I had assured him I was fine, even going as far to say that I wasn't his little girl anymore.

But even as angry as I was with him, I was still relieved that he was there, rubbing my back, offering soothing instructions. There was something about the gesture that made me feel safe, made me feel like I was a little kid again. Not that I was going to let him know that…

After two minutes, I moved away from him, making it to my feet as steadily as I could. He rose as well, although he had to grab onto the edge of my bed in order to keep from pushing off of his stiff, left leg. I should have helped him up, but as my head began to clear, it immediately grew cloudy with anger.

"You should sit down," he gestured to my bed.

I did as told, waiting for him to do the same. Crossing my arms over my chest, I remained silent. The small mirror on my dresser across the room showed that my face was bright red and my hair was half out of its ponytail. It would be difficult putting up an argument looking the way I did, let alone with my body suddenly drained of energy.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he reached over to take my pulse.

I brushed his hand away instinctively, "I'm fine."

He paused briefly before admitting, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you that upset."

"You ruined my night, did you honestly think I wasn't going be upset?" I snapped back, instantly regretting it given the look it brought to his face. In the Cave, he had been angered by my defiance, but in my room he looked remorseful.

"Mattie, I'm sorry… I…" he waited until I looked up at him before finishing, "I shouldn't have yelled at you... I was wrong. But… you were wrong as well, for acting as you did."

"Acting as I did?" I shook my head, "All I did was ask a question, a question that you never answered."

"Kitten, I-."

"What is going on?" I cut him off, my deoxygenated brain seemingly acting on its own accord.

Rather than ignore my demands, Dad sighed, "You know about Ra's al Ghul, you know that he's been missing for fifteen years."

Nodding, I asked, "Who was the woman talking?"

"It was Talia, his daughter. Her message is on a transmission Barbara intercepted. We haven't been able to verify where it was sent from, but we know it is her."

"What does she want?"

"It seems… as if she is trying to warn us. That her father is still active, that he's been planning something in the years he has been off of our radar."

"Why would she do that, why would she warn you?"

He sighed again, "It's a long story, Mattie." From his tone, a barrage of questions wasn't going to get the answers I wanted. I was worried because he was sugar coating it, unlike when the Joker had been on our tails…

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you trust me?"

"Mattie, we don't know what it means. It could be a trap or a decoy or complete nonsense. Until we figure it out, there's no point in putting everyone on edge with worry. Not after what we faced already this year."

Knowing my father's penchant for hiding information in order to protect his family, I asked, "Does Mom know?"

I wasn't surprised when Dad shook his head, "No."

With the boldness from earlier returning, I found the courage to threaten, "If you don't tell her, I will."

"Mattie, this isn't up to you to-."

Standing up, I pointed at him, "You can't keep lying to everyone!"

"That is enough, young lady," he grumbled as he rose to his feet in order to stare down at me.

"No, it's not! You can't keep lying to Mom!"

"Mattie," he started to cut me off, but his voice lacked any conviction.

"She trusts you, she would do anything for you! And you-," I stopped screaming suddenly as his face grew pale and silent, his eyes blinking with too much effort behind the simple task.

Oh, no…

As he started to collapse, eyes rolling into the back of his head, I tried to catch him to help him to the floor. I managed to latch onto his arm, doing what I could to lower him more slowly but with him being twice my size, he still landed hard. As his torso went rigid, his limbs straightened at his sides, I remembered why we hadn't fought all summer long. Anxiety and stress were priming factors for the tonic-clonic seizures he suffered following his fall to the Joker.

I had been his caretaker all vacation long and I had just pushed him over the edge into a grand mal seizure.

It wouldn't have been nearly as bad but he was just at the tail end of being off his old medication in order to cleanse his system for the switch to barbiturates. In the two weeks he was flushing the tegretol out of his system, he had suffered an increasing number of episodes, forcing him to stay home from work in order to rest. Nathan had seen one of the bad seizures and had been scared of Dad for two days.

After all I had seen in my life, it was regrettably old hat.

Without thinking, I grabbed one of my tear stained pillows and carefully put it between Dad's head and the side of my bed. I then tried to move him onto his side, but again he was just too big for me to do more than pull fruitlessly. As Alfred and Leslie had taught me, I kept on eye on the time while undoing the top three buttons of his shirt. Thankfully, it wasn't that aggressive of an attack and he seemed to be staying in the same spot on the carpet as his brain sent the wrong signals to his body. I had seen him suffer far worse, his body taking on a life of its own, even thrashing violently when he had still been in the hospital.

Fifty seconds.

His eyes had started fluttering and his arms began drawing themselves up to cross over his chest, twitching and jerking unnaturally.

Sixty seconds.

As much as I wanted to go and get Alfred, I knew I had to stay with Dad until after the episode ended.

Seventy seconds.

His face had been pale but was starting to take on a blueish color, his lungs unable to draw in oxygen.

Eighty-two seconds.

I found that my tears had returned, although I wasn't sure if it had been from relief as his body began to relax or from fear for having to sit by and watch what I had done to him. With all of the energy I had left, I pushed him up on to his side, holding his head up long enough to put the pillow underneath it. I quickly pressed my ear to his lips, sighing when deep, hungry breaths finally came.

"It's okay, Dad, I'm here," I started offering the same soothing words he had given me moments earlier, rubbing his back and waiting for his eyes to open.

Eight minutes.

"Dad? Can you hear me?" I asked.

He blinked slowly before nodding even more languidly.

As I had been instructed, I proceeded to ask him questions in order to test his short term memory and brain function. By the time he was lucid, sitting upright with his back against the bed, Alfred had knocked once more and I bid him to enter. Seeing the disarray we both were in, concern flooded his face but I was quick to explain, "We're okay, Alfred. No more fighting."

Not convinced, Alfred approached us, looking intently at the exhausted figure beside me, "Master Bruce?"

"I'm… fine…" he answered, his words slurred.

"Sir, I must insist-."

"Fine… in good hands." At that, Alfred had departed, although I expected him to return shortly with a wheelchair to drag my father away in.

Kneeling beside him, I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve, "Truce?"

He looked at me for a moment, then he whispered his reply, "Truce."

"I'm sorry, Dad, I shouldn't have-."

He shook his head slowly, his voice thick and slurred, "My fault… not yours. Friends can come… if you want."

Having my friends over was the last thing on my mind after the last ten minutes. I hugged him, then pulled back to kiss his cheek before offering a rare, "Thanks, Daddy."

Although it took some effort, he smirked.

^V^

"What's today?" she had asked.

"Friday."

"What did you have for dinner?" Mattie had continued her post-seizure interrogation. Where Alfred and Leslie often focused intently on hard facts, Mattie had always liked to spice it up a bit.

"Haven't eaten… yet."

She had smirked briefly before asking, "What are you going to get me for Christmas?"

"Mattie…" I had tried to warn but I could barely utter her name, let alone growl it.

"Sorry, couldn't hurt to try…"

Not wanting her to see how bad I actually felt, I had distracted her and myself by praising her ever developing medical skills. She had been quick to assure me, "Dr. Wayne is always on-call, Dad." Even with the smirk still on her lips, she had been unable to hide the worry in her eyes.

Mattie had been at my side most of the summer, braving the harsh first few weeks I had been home from the hospital with courage I couldn't even fathom. Then again, not all girls her age had witnessed as many medical travesties as she had. From her illness as a toddler, to the car accident shortly before Selina and I had been wed, all of the injuries we had endured fighting crime… and yet the worst of it had happened in the last six months.

Cassandra, Will and Dick being shot.

Tim's father and step-mother being brutally murdered.

And myself, falling at the hands of the Joker, with wounds that would never mend.

Too much, too fast, too soon.

Somehow, she had taken it all in stride. In the midst of our lives falling to pieces, she had pushed forward, creating her own vigilante identity and getting her first taste of crime fighting. As upset as I had been with her when she had snuck into the city or when she had escaped the Watchtower, there was an underlying sense of pride. Mattie, as did Selina and Alfred, constantly had to remind me that she was no longer a little girl.

More specifically, my little girl…

As expected, Alfred came back for me mere minutes later, armed with not only a wheelchair but with Leslie. In the time he had been gone, I had managed to regain my senses and my vitals, although the sudden fatigue and disorientation wasn't going anywhere. When they arrived, I smiled at Mattie and forced my voice to be even and convincing, "Why don't you get ready… for tonight. I know you still had to set things up downstairs."

"They don't have to come over-."

I cut her off, "No… It's the end of summer… Use it wisely."

She then looked to Alfred who had sided with me, "No time to waste I'm afraid, Miss Mattie. We have quite a bit of work to do in order to prepare for… make your own pizzas."

When she had finally left my side and headed into the bathroom, I did my best to climb up in to the wheelchair, not wanting to rely on Alfred and Leslie to lift me. Once situated, Leslie was quick to check my vitals and ask me questions regarding times, places and events. After answering them gruffly and insisting I just needed to rest, they escorted me out of the bedroom and down the hall.

Thankfully, Selina had been with Nathan downstairs, picking out a movie to watch after dinner. My young son had not taken to my physical changes as well as his sister had, and I certainly had no intention to make it any harder for him. The last grand mal I had endured, he had witnessed it in its entirety, something that had caused him to be fearful of me. It had taken a great deal of reassurance, but he was finally starting to see passed what had happened.

Reaching the master bedroom, I pulled myself out of the chair and onto the bed before Alfred could make a move to stop me. Once sitting upright, I did my best to ignore the look on his face. As painful as my condition was personally to deal with, it was taking its toll on my Family, not just my children.

Leslie, who had disappeared into the master bath briefly, returned with a glass of water and three white tablets, "At this point, we're better off just starting the Phenobarbital. This week we'll try for two hundred milligrams a day, then work our way up as needed."

I didn't need the water, but I took it anyway, washing down the pills before asking, "How long until they take effect?"

Sitting beside me on the bed, Leslie replied, "Realistically, its full effect won't be evident for another week, but with a loading dose, it should lessen the tonic-clonic episodes substantially in the next few days."

Alfred stood by stoically, his eyes darting from my pale face to random spots around the room.

"I recommend you stay home tomorrow night," Leslie added, "Continue taking it easy until we have everything sorted out."

Rather than respond directly, I simply cleared my throat. Bruce Wayne's presence would be a big boost for DJG Security's event, one that I wasn't willing to forgo simply because of personal reasons. I had long since promised to attend, as had other members of the WE board, including Lucius Fox. As it had always been, my simply being at a social gathering increased publicity tenfold, something that they needed for the firm.

Leslie's voice drew my attention, "Well, let's get you changed… settled in for the night. I'll get a waste basket in case you have any nausea."

"I'm fine, Leslie, I just need to rest for a while," I explained despite being barely able to keep my eyes open

She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, "I'm not kidding, Bruce. You can't keep pushing yourself like this. It's different now, this is something that's not going to go away if you are stubborn long enough."

Sighing, I nodded, "Fine. Send Selina up when you go downstairs."

Leslie rose to her feet, smiling down at me before kissing my brow and leaving without another word. Alone, Alfred finally found his voice, "Shall I have Dr. Tompkins examine Miss Mattie as well?"

"No... she actually is fine," I grumbled while pulling my shirt off.

Letting my legs hang over the side of the bed, I undid my belt and slipped my jeans and socks off while Alfred retrieved flannel pants for me to change into. That simple of an act had my head spinning and my breaths coming slightly faster. It was barely dusk and I was more than ready to crawl into bed and sleep away the next twelve hours. Nathan, regrettably, would have to settle for his evening's entertainment to be spent with his mother and surrogate grandparents as opposed to looking at the heavens with me.

As I felt my head starting to fog over from the medication, Alfred asked if I desired anything else. Knowing my stomach would be the next to start swirling, I requested a wastebasket, just in case. Even after retrieving one from the bathroom, he refused to leave my bedside until I was actually under the covers and leaning back into the stack of pillows. Alfred then wished me a peaceful rest before departing, dimming the lights enough to further induce drowsiness.

Feeling my body growing numb, I did my best to focus on breathing evenly as a way to deter the lightheadedness. It was difficult to say if it was more of a direct result of the Phenobarbital or residual effects of the seizure. Either way, I felt horrible.

For three months, I had felt horrible.

And there was little doubt in my mind that it would change just because of new meds…

"Bruce?" I heard Selina entering the room, quietly closing the door behind her, "Are you okay, Leslie just-."

"It wasn't that bad…" I assured her as she approached the bed.

Rather than sit next to me as Leslie had moments earlier, Selina moved to her side and navigated over the mattress. After she reclined next to me, Selina rested her face on my pillow before kissing my cheek. Despite the drowsiness and blurry vision, I suddenly felt a fraction better.

"I didn't even know you two had come upstairs…" she whispered into my ear.

Rather than lying to her, especially since our daughter would inevitably reveal what had happened, I offered, "We fought… she… she yelled at me, down in the Cave."

"Hunh?" Selina asked, her arm moving to rest over my torso, "What for?"

"I wouldn't tell her about something Tim was working on… and she snapped at me… and she swore."

"No more HBO for her," Selina kissed my cheek again, "What did you do?"

I paused before saying, "I told her to go to her room… that her sleepover was canceled."

"Bruce…"

"I apologized… after, told her I was wrong. Shouldn't have yelled at her."

There was a long moment where we remained silent, Selina gently caressing my bare chest, sneaking her hand under the covers and then trekking back up to my pectorals. I tried not to think that her fingertips were absently tracing my most recent scars from where the Joker had used Huntress' crossbow arrows to carve up my sides. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only image my mind was able to focus on.

She finally said, "At least you didn't knock the door down again."

"No… but… she had been crying… when I finally caught up with her… was having an asthma attack… after she was settled down, she started yelling at me again."

"And that's when you had your seizure?"

"Yep."

Selina sighed, "Leslie said she started the Phenobarbital."

"Yep," I repeated myself.

"High as a kite, yet?" she tried to joke.

"Spinning like one," I answered.

"My poor baby…" she kissed my cheek again, "Well, I'll keep Nathan entertained downstairs, hopefully keep him away from Mattie and her friends…" When I didn't say anything, she continued, "And we can take it easy tomorrow, I'll have the kids rearrange their bedrooms or something… then stay home instead of going to the banquet…"

I shook my head slowly, "No, we have to go. Even if it's only for a little while."

"We'll see," she responded.

Another silent minute passed before I made the effort to wrap my arm around Selina's shoulders.

… If you don't tell her, I will…

"Mom? Dad?"

We both looked to the door just as Mattie entered the bedroom. She had showered and taken the effort to dry and straighten her hair, the added length making it reach the middle of her back. Seeing how it was a girl's night, she had dressed casually in black cotton shorts and her gymnastic team's white and blue shirt. Keeping her voice low, she crossed the room, "I'm going to go downstairs, start helping Alfred."

Selina sighed, "Okay, kiddo, I'll be down in a bit."

Before leaving, Mattie looked me over, "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" I countered.

She smirked before answering, "Yeah… What kind of pizza do you want, Dad?"

Having taken the meds on an empty stomach, I knew adding pizza wasn't the wisest decision, even though it would be perfectly crafted by my daughter. Instead of letting her down, I said, "Surprise me."

Not long after, Selina left as well, promising to be back up as soon as she had Nathan fed and tuned into a movie. I offered for him to come up and watch one with me, knowing full well I would be asleep the second after the opening credits rolled. As she opened the door to leave, a black blur raced across the room and catapulted onto the bed. As a faint weight stalked up my body, I smirked when bright green eyes and fully dilated pupils came into my line of sight.

"I'll leave you boys to it…" Selina said before closing the door behind her.

Kitten settled his little haunches just below my left collarbone, his eyes still intensely focused on my face as his tail twitched across my chest.

"Easy, buddy," I offered before reaching out to stroke the hair over his spine.

Having been practically feral when Cassandra had recovered him from Crime Alley, he had quickly adapted to domestic life, save for his sporadic moments of insanity. Where Isis had been a cool and collected feline and Tafffy practically a furry throw pillow, Kitten was far more active. He was prone to bouts of climbing the drapes, taking jewelry off of the dresser and causing assorted chaos. In spite of his shenanigans, he had taken to not only myself but naturally to Selina. He purred and relaxed in her arms where he was more apt to try and entice me to play with him.

His pink tongue stood out as he suddenly darted it over his black lips.

I prepared for an attack by closing my eyes and hoping for him to at least make it fast. What I wasn't prepared for was the sandpaper rough tongue lapping at my chin. Looking once more, I sighed to see he had decided that I was in no condition to roughhouse and instead needed his gentler side.

Even the damned cat was coddling me.

^V^

Saturdays were meant for sleeping.

In my line of work, both professional and voluntary, sleep was not a commodity, it was a luxury. Having started my crime fighting career well over a decade earlier, I had learned to function on mere hours of sleep each night, if that. But as with any normal person, weekends had always and would always be designed for sleeping in.

As a teenager, my dad had to practically drag me out of bed on Saturday afternoons and when I had lived on campus at the beginning of college, I never made it to breakfast at the cafeteria. I had continued my weekend rituals after getting my first apartment, but it wasn't long before I had stepped off of the bachelor path to move in with Cass. Also known as the one person in the world that never slept in.

She had always been able to start her day bright and early no matter how late she had gone to sleep after patrols. What was even worse, Cass never just lounged around after waking, she went for morning runs and did hours of yoga and katas. There had been a time that I had tried take after her steadfast example, but it had been unsuccessful. I had a number of Bruce's qualities and had learned to adapt some of his traits, but thriving on sleeplessness would never be one of them.

I wasn't surprised that Cass snuck out of the bed at a little before seven on Saturday morning. She was always keen on making sure Robbie was fed and let out on as close of a schedule as she could maintain. While I heard them outside, the Boxer's excited yips along with Cass's laughter, I was not enticed from my down filled haven. Nor was I lured from the bed when the faint aroma of bacon made its way to the second floor.

It wasn't until eleven that I finally rose, partially because the house had gone silent but mostly because my bladder was protesting. Patrols had been fairly easy given how chaotic our night lives had been for the first half of the year. Even with just the two of us out there, we managed to tour the city thoroughly and on occasion had even trekked to the Haven in Dick's stead. Drug and weapon trafficking, gang activity, illegal gambling outfits, car jacking rings… it was a walk in the park after the Joker.

Seeing how I had showered after patrols nearly eight hours earlier, I had settled on only brushing my teeth and a change of clothes. With the banquet that evening, I had more than enough time to spiffy up later in the day. I found a clean pair of khaki shorts cut off at my knees, a pair of leather flip flops in dire need of replacing and lime green cotton tee-shirt declaring: Cleaning Ladies Are Neat!

Hopefully, Alfred wouldn't drop by and disapprove of my outfit.

Jogging down the stairs, I called out Cass's name but wasn't met with a reply. Trekking to the kitchen, I smirked to see she had left me a note on the fridge, secured by a plastic B letter magnet:

Meeting Selina, Barbara and Mattie for the salon. Then lunch. Then back to the salon. Be awake by four and you can see if I went for the total package.

I laughed aloud at that, thinking back on what had happened when Cass had gone to the salon with our adult Family members before Dick and Barbara's wedding. Aside from manicures, pedicures, facials and hair treatment, the total package had included a Brazilian wax, something that Cass had not been prepared for. After she had divulged the horrors of her beautification process to me the night after their reception, she had sighed, "Been shot, stabbed, burned… Nothing… ever… hurt like that."

Being the younger and considerably less wiser man that I had been at the time, my first response had been, "Can I see?"

Naturally, I had woken up on the floor a minute later with Cass standing over me.

It would have been easy enough to head to the Cave to catch up on log entries or to grab my iPod and take Robbie for walk around the property to search for his collection of missing tennis balls. Seeing how the dog was already passed out in the living room, I decided to join him on the couch. Robbie wagged his nub of a tail as I roughed up the hair on his tummy, lifted his head long enough to lick my arm before settling back down into the pillows. With the silence starting to make me uneasy, I reached for the remote on the coffee table and turned the TV and Blu Ray player on. As the system came to life, I found myself smirking sadly.

Earlier that year, I had spent an afternoon helping my father install the surround sound system that Dana had bought him. After Cass and I had moved into the house, I had left everything in the living room as it had been, even keeping the furniture as Dad had kept it.

Before my thoughts drifted into darker waters, I selected the player option and started the disc. I had it paused from the previous night where Cass and I had watched it while eating crab rangoons, wonton soup and Ling Mung Gai. Our impromptu photographer for the wedding reception had regrettably lost control over the video camera she had brought to the likes of Dick and his comrade Roy Harper. Ti many martoonis, they had been adamant that I had requested they film the remainder of the reception and she had obliged. The result had been nearly two hours of sporadic clips of Dick and Roy interviewing guests, accidentally filming the floor as they stood in line for the bathroom along with very bad sing-alongs.

In flawless clarity, the surround sound speakers came to life and I smiled as Dick, Roy, Wally and Will jointly bellowed Don't Stop Believing. Their faces were reddened with excitement and alcohol, their eyes were bright with mischief and not a single one of them sang in key. The performance was cut short when whoever was holding the camera for them said, "Bruce is coming!" It cut in and out for another twenty minutes, catching Mattie and Terry slow dancing, a far too close close-up of Selina's cleavage along with jumpy footage of way too many plain clothed superheroes doing the Chicken Dance. I had watched the video eight times and it never got old.

When it went to black, I left it to play out while I went to get a bottle of water. Upon returning to the living room, I was surprised to see that the screen had jumped to a scene I had not been aware of. Then again, whenever Cass and I had watched the video, we often left abruptly to head out to patrols, leaving Robbie as the only one of us to have seen it in its entirety. Dick was holding the camera towards his face and there were barely any other guests in the background. The DJ and his assistant could be seen in the far right packing up their equipment and the caterers walked back and forth cleaning up the tables.

Smiling, Dick spoke directly into the camera's face, "Well, I think that about does it. None of the rogues showed up, no terrorists, no global takeovers… Roy may or may not have puked in the garden by the pool… but I made sure he puked like a man, standing up. I just want to say… you got me, little bro. You got all of us. And for you to pull one over on the old man… kudos, my friend."

Wally sped by in the background, a fraction of a second long blur of far too much flesh for him to have been wearing clothing.

I heard Barbara call out to her husband and he waved before shouting back, "Two seconds, Babs!" The smirk on Dick's face faded suddenly and his eyes softened, "And… I know this year has been bad for us… but I know it hit you the worst… and… I just want you to know… your dad would be proud of you…"

He bit his lip and for a moment I thought I saw his eyes watering up. Then, out of no where, he grinned, "And… we need to have a serious talk about your dance moves, or lack thereof… but another time. Enjoy your wedding night, little bro, don't let Cass be the man!"

The end.

I decided to take Robbie out after all and we managed to find six tennis balls, three rubber Kong toys and his stuffed squirrel that had regrettably lost its tail. Returning to the house, he was spent and I was regretting having not put on sun screen. He followed me back inside, gulped down half of a bowl of water and them promptly passed out on the cold, kitchen floor.

Since a nap was the last thing I needed, I decided to play the dutiful husband by picking up the kitchen, rotating laundry and running the dust mop over the hardwood floors. From there, I checked my e-mails, downloaded far too many songs on iTunes and then settled down for lunch. After a roast beef sandwich and the rest of the vegetable platter Mattie had made us earlier in the week, I was spent. Cass was due back in less than two hours, and if she caught me dozing on the couch while she had been out getting tortured, it wouldn't matter how many household duties I had performed in her absence.

Certainly enough time to do next door for a visit. But after the way things had ended the day before…

Without being told, I was already under the assumption that Mattie was going to be grounded, at least from her training time with Cass and I. If she wasn't allowed to have her girls over for a slumber party, there was no way he was going to let her play in the Cave. I often mused that where Mattie had been an angel in her younger years, her entrance into the teenaged era had been something of a challenge. Granted it had coincided with an upheaval in the Family, but since things had settled, she had not.

Add in the fact that Bruce, for the third time in his life, was trying to adapt to his new limitations…

I opted to continue entertaining myself at home. Putting calls into both Dick and Will, we agreed to meet at five-thirty and make sure we had everything in order. Dick seemed to be a bit on edge but I knew he was keen on making sure everything went as smoothly as possible. To set him at ease, I offered, "Hey, Bruce will be there, that instantly makes tonight a win."

It was then he admitted, "Actually, he might not be coming."

"What?" I asked while standing in our walk-in closet. I had decided to get a head start by picking out my ensemble for the evening.

"Guess he wasn't feeling well last night… and Selina said he wasn't doing much better today."

The quarrel he had with his daughter the day before, the one I had witnessed and whatever had happened upstairs in the manor, had no doubt instigated something. I knew he was home until he was switched to his new medication routine but I honestly hadn't seen any problems or signs of illness. Then again, Bruce was never one to show weakness…

After hanging up with him, I showered, shaved, clipped my finger nails and proceeded to get dressed. Fresh from her afternoon out, Cass would only need to don her dress before we headed into the city. Robbie finally joined me in the bedroom, using his canine radar to detect the fact that I was wearing nice clothes and needed to be jumped on.

"No-ho-ho, pal…" I pushed him off and pointed to his bed, "I have to be clean at least once in my life."

As I was running a lint roller over my pants leg, I heard Cass call out, "Looking fine at twenty-nine."

"Thanks," I offered, stepping out of the bathroom. "You don't look half bad yourself."

And she didn't. Her short, straight hair was never treated to anything more than a shampoo and air drying but the stylist had brought it to life with soft waves and substantial volume. She had held her ground on the makeup though, only allowing herself to be touched up with some eye shadow and lip gloss.

I walked over and kissed her cheek, detecting a new perfume coming from her neck, "Smell good, too."

"Saying I don't smell good normally?" her perfectly plucked brow rose.

Before dashing out of the room, I stammered, "… I'm going to… go pull the car around."

Racing downstairs, I tried to get my mind on the task ahead, including the presentations Dick, Will and I had prepared to lure customers back to our side. It wasn't that any of us needed the firm to bounce back to its former glory, even Will would never have to worry given the friends he had made. We certainly had enough clients that had stayed on after what had happened earlier in the year to stay afloat, but the rumors swirling the industry were heartbreaking. It was more along the lines that the firm was something we had all put effort into over the years, including the late Jim Gordon, and we weren't about to let it fall to pieces because of the Joker.

Back in June, when Bruce had finally been released from the hospital, I had gone through the motions of trying to get the office back in order. I already had arranged for professional cleaners to come in and clean up after the forensic teams along with a contractor to replace the carpets in Will and Jim's offices. The cleaners had done their best, but even they couldn't work their magic on such massive blood stains.

The only room that needed to be tended to was Jim's office. Will's had been untouched by the Joker but the fight between him and Dick had resulted in chaos. Seemingly pointless, I had the leather office chair reupholstered where the batarangs had sliced into the back support. From there, I had dusted and rearranged the photographs and books on the shelf and the desk until they were exactly where they belonged.

I had been in the process of trying to fix the phone when there had been a knock at the door followed by Will's voice, "Thinking of all of the times Jim threatened to throw that phone out of the window, I don't think he'll mind if you can't save it.

He had joined me for the rest of the afternoon, helping make sure everything was as it needed to be. We even went through the motions of replacing outdated magazines in the lobby and stocking printers with paper and toner cartridges. With the firm spotless and ready for business, I had still been unable to shake the images that tainted my former haven. Police evidence markers, Kelsey's grim face, the pools of still damp blood where Will and Dick had been gunned down. I had imagined it was only worse for Will to be there…

For the night, I had already picked out the black Lexus ISF that my father had treated himself to the previous summer and that I had unfortunately inherited. It could hit sixty miles per an hour in four seconds backed by a eight-speed Sport Direct Shift transmission. When he had picked it up at the dealer in Bristol, we had taken it out back on the county highway, clocking out at just under a hundred and seventy miles per an hour.

He had a grin on his face the entire time he had been behind the wheel.

The passenger door opened suddenly and I smiled to see Cass had opted on the black knee length dress with white piping. Naturally, she had flat, black shoes on, never one to compromise her agility for the sake of fashion. "Ready?" Cass asked

"Ready to roll out."

Fourteen miles to Gotham City flew by as I sped the entire drive. Seeing how it was pointless to drive back, change in the Cave and then head into Gotham, we both had cycles and suits at our previous Sat-Cave in Bryanttown, ready and waiting. Unlike Bruce when he used to attend Wayne Foundation functions long enough to be seen by the right people, Cass and I intended to stay for the entire duration. That was unless we were called elsewhere.

Since the Joker's apprehension, Kelsey had been surprisingly warm and willing towards us. Whatever large scale crimes we had solved over the summer, she had been quick to show her gratitude and welcomed any evidence we submitted. Bryce, who had been cooperative since he first took the office of District Attorney, was pleased to see the commissioner's change of heart. All it had taken was nearly six months of nonstop terror and a few hundred dead bodies.

Arriving, I had tentatively handed over the keys and a tip to the valet. Stepping around the front of the car, I put a hand on Cass' back and guided her up the stairs to the front entrance. The guests wouldn't arrive for at least another hour and a half, giving us plenty of time to make sure everything was in order. After coat check, we made our way to the main dining hall where we had dozens of tables set up, clothed in blue and gold and plated with full dinnerware placings.

I found Dick and Will on the small stage that had been set up at the front of the room, being outfitted with microphone nubs to the lapels of their jackets by a pair of technicians. Dick cleared his throat before facing the empty banquet hall, arms spread out, although his left was considerably lower, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, if I could direct your attention to the middle of the center ring…"

Will laughed into his microphone, "You can take the boy out of the circus…"

^V^

Despite the fact she could have easily been with Katarina, Angie and Piper, sprawled all over the various couches in the den, Mattie treated Bruce and I to breakfast in bed shortly after eight on Saturday morning.

She left promptly after delivering the tray, including coffee and ice water, leaving to join her comatose companions downstairs. Before digging in, I excused myself to check on Nathan, relieved to see he and Ace were both snoring away. Returning to the master bedroom, I side tracked to the bathroom briefly. After taking my own meds, namely bio-identical hormone capsules and a multivitamin, I went about retrieving Bruce's pills.

Thymic protein tablet, Omega-3, creatine and calcium supplements, Aleve, Prilosec, Phenobarbital…

A real mouthful.

I poured them into a paper cup and then returned to the bed, setting it on the breakfast tray before situating myself under the covers. While I had been gone, Bruce had pushed himself to sit upright against the pillows and had also put his hearing aides in.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Food first?" I asked.

"Coffee first," he replied, tentatively raising the cup to his lips.

The night before had been his first on his new meds and save for a brief spell of nausea, he had faired well and actually slept through the night. I, on the other hand, had woken almost every hour, instinctively looking at him in the darkness and making sure he was okay. As if the first part of the year hadn't been torturous enough, the last two months and specifically last two weeks had been more than I could handle.

I should have been grateful that normalcy was the challenge I was facing between school shopping and getting ready for a barrage of football practices for Nathan and all of the clubs Mattie intended on joining. Life at the Preserve and at home had once more become my time consuming and fulfilling existence. But regrettably, I had to find a way to physically and emotionally juggle that along with supporting Bruce as he tried to acclimate to post-brain damaged life once again. He had made it clear on several occasions that he didn't want me to sacrifice my time and energy on his behalf.

I had to remind Bruce that the role of a spouse was to stand by the other in a time of need.

But where he had suffered the most in the last two weeks, I had been pleased to see that instead of drawing away he was forthcoming in his thoughts and concerns, both about his health and about life in general. He was frank when he discussed what it would mean when he was on barbiturates and how he would still have to be even more careful with his activity levels. In addition, Bruce expressed his wariness with Mattie's training, namely about how fast she was working through it. Fifteen years ago, if someone had told me that there would be a time when I would be having nightly heart-to-heart discussions with Bruce, I would have laughed. Now, it seemed odd not hearing his voice as we lay in bed, my fingers tracing the scars on his chest while his arm circled my back. Although I would have preferred pillow talk of a lighter topic…

"What has our child concocted?" Bruce asked as he began investigating the plates on the tray.

We sampled what ended up being pear pancakes along with crispy sausage and still steaming banana bread. Halfway through, Bruce took four of his pills and washed them down with his entire glass of water. From there, he had picked at the rest of his plate, practically inviting me to steal his remaining banana bread.

"I was saving that for later."

Lifting my fork to his throat, "Call me a thief, I know you want to."

Rather than respond, he simply took my water glass and used it to wash the rest of pills down.

I stabbed my fork into a cube of pancake and put it to my lips before saying, "So, you slept on it. Have you made a verdict?"

Bruce put the empty water glass down on the night stand next to him, "I think I'll go… Worst case scenario, we can always leave early."

I chewed slowly and swallowed, "You sure?"

He nodded before running a hand through his gray hair, "I actually feel better than I have all week."

"Well, you should, you were out like a light last night."

"Nervous system depressing barbituates will do that."

I hid the slight cringe I was unable to contain by wiping my mouth with a linen napkin.

Although Bruce had been more open of late, he had at times been too blatant when it came to his health and care. What he considered cold, hard fact often did something cold and hard to my gut.

"I also decided that… as punishment for her behavior yesterday afternoon… Mattie will not be attending the banquet." When I nodded instead of defending our daughter, Bruce continued, "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You want to."

I shook my head before rising from the bed and gathering the tray, "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time."

He glared at me and I blew him a kiss.

Leaving him to start his day at whatever pace he desired, I carried the remnants of breakfast down the hall, returning once more to Nathan's open bedroom door. Whistling lowly, Ace jumped to his feet, rousing my son in the process, and leapt off of the bed. He trotted up to me and sat while staring up eagerly. I gave him the last scrap of sausage and then called, "Come on, Nate, let's get up."

With all the theatrics he could muster, Nathan rolled out of bed and pretended to fall, twisting at the last second to land on his feet. As he stood upright, he fixed his pajama pants and then ran over to me, stepping around Ace in order to hug my legs, "Morning, Mommy."

"Morning, baby," I leaned over and kissed his disheveled black hair.

Where Mattie was getting her haircut with us that day, Bruce was going to take Nathan to get his done at the barber in town the following week. It was the one ritual that Bruce had seen to right from the beginning with his youngest son, one they both enjoyed thoroughly. And with school fast approaching, the summer style of short and cropped wasn't going to fly any longer, he had first grade school pictures to prepare for.

"Is Dad asleep?" he asked, resting his chin on my hip in order to stare straight up at me.

"Nope, but he may need someone to get him out of bed. Why don't I take Ace down with this and you can go make sure he gets up."

Nathan looked down the hall towards our bedroom door before glancing back up at me, "Can you come with me?"

"What?"

He shrugged, letting me go before saying, "Can you come with me?"

"To see Dad?" I asked. When he nodded, I asked, "Why?"

Nathan sighed before saying, "I don't know."

Earlier in the week, he had been unfortunate enough to walk in on Bruce having a seizure in the study. We had just gotten home from shopping for new gear for his upcoming premiere football season while Bruce stayed home to relax. He had been excited upon returning home and had run into the study to show off his new cleats, socks and gloves that he had donned on the ride home from the athletic store. Thankfully, it had been the same afternoon that Barbara had decided to drop by with Ethan and she had been able to entertain my son while Alfred and I took care of Bruce.

In a way, it had been a good thing that Nathan had found Bruce as I had intended on putting everything away before seeking out my husband…

For the next few days, he had been uneasy being around his father by himself, something that literally broke my heart, nearly as much as it did Bruce's. We had explained in detail many times over the summer about his condition and the changes in his health, modified into six-year-old-ese. Nathan seemed to have taken everything in stride, as he had his entire life. Although he had seen a number of Bruce's absence seizures, it was the first time he had seen the grand mal variation.

"Nate, we talked about this, hon… Dad's okay… he has new medicine…"

"Is he going to get better soon?"

"Eventually," I lied, taking a hand off of the tray to rub his shoulders, "But you know what will help make him feel better sooner?"

"What?"

"A hug," I smiled down at him.

The frown on my son's face vanished as he bolted down the hall, screaming out, "I'm coming, Dad!"

Finally making it to the kitchen, I wasn't surprised to see that Alfred and Leslie were sharing breakfast and tea in the nook. I allowed myself a smile upon realizing that they had decided to dress comfortably for the day, Leslie in khakis and a blue blouse and Alfred in dark slacks and a white button up shirt. Perhaps they would finally treat themselves to a day out and about…

I quickly and quietly rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher before letting Ace out through the service entrance. When I returned, I was greeted by Alfred who was quick to say, "Ms. Selina, I would have tended to-."

I cut him off, "Alfred."

"Yes, madam?"

I glared at him silently, fighting back a smile.

"Of course, madam," he replied curtly before about facing and returning to the nook.

The rest of the day went fairly quickly. Father and son made their way downstairs and Nathan was more than happy to eat with Alfred and Leslie while Bruce retreated to the study. I checked twice to make sure he was at his desk and hadn't escaped to the Cave, both times earning a look from him. When Mattie's friends had been picked up around ten in the morning, Bruce had emerged in order to talk to her about her impending punishment. Surprisingly, she took the news well and seemed to have been expecting it.

It must have been one hell of a fight.

Less than an hour later, Cassandra had arrived at the Manor and rode with Mattie and I into the city to meet Barbara for a day of pampering. Save for Tim and Cassandra's wedding reception, we hadn't attended a public social event in far too long. There was no need for pesky eyebrow hairs or split ends to get in the way of a proper evening. Aside from spending time with the female members of the Family, it was nice to get out of house and do nothing for a change. The first half was spent enduring mani-pedis, waxes and facials. After a divine lunch at the spa's restaurant, we had gone back upstairs for hair and makeup. Even though Mattie was not attending the banquet, she still had opted to have her hair straightened and cut by the stylist.

Dropping Barbara at the Clocktower and Cassandra off next door, Mattie and I returned to find the house peaceful. I was happy to see that Nathan and Bruce, along with Ace, were dozing in the entertainment den while the end credits of a movie played. Even more, Nathan was laying on the couch with his head in his father's lap. I left them to head upstairs, pausing when Mattie didn't follow me. When she explained she wanted to go read outside, I smiled, "Sunscreen."

By the time Bruce made it upstairs, I had already picked out his tuxedo and was in the process of looking at my collection of dresses. When I spotted him out of the corner of my eye as he leaned against the door frame, I asked, "What do you think? The tan Rina di Montella or the charcoal Jovani?"

As I held the two dresses in front of me, he smirked, "Jovani."

"Just because you like that it's strapless…" I remarked, putting the tan dress back on the rack.

We were dressed and out the door by quarter after six, leaving the kids under the watchful eyes of Alfred and Leslie, who had in fact spent the day touring the Bristol countryside and sampling markets. Given the nature of the event, Bruce had opted to have the company driver take us down in the town car, of which had rustled a few of Alfred's feathers. Traffic was a bit of a bear, but we had arrived on time in Midtown, the door of the car being opened to fairly good press turnout. The publicity alone would be enough to help the firm out, on top of the efforts that Dick, Will and Tim had put into the banquet.

We had to fight for a good thirty minutes through not only the reporters and photographers waiting outside but also the other guests once we made it to the doors. Everyone was so happy to see Bruce and he did his best to convey the same excitement. Save for a Wayne Foundation event earlier in the summer, it was his first major public appearance since he had been attacked by an "unknown" assailant in Crime Alley.

Gotham had missed its favorite son.

I was pleased to see that everything went without a hitch. Dick acted as the maitre'd for the night, starting off with a warm welcome and words of praise to customers, new and old. He did a wonderful review of the firm and how it came to be, pictures on the projection screen of Jim Gordon making me wibble. As dinner was presented, Will stepped up to the podium, offering insight onto the new developments with meticulous displays, diagrams and images. Tim had then stepped up to the plate, announcing exciting changes in technological security systems and listing the testing they had personally completed.

Lastly, Cassandra joined Tim as he announced their new self defense tutorial classes for all ages and levels of experience with children under the age of sixteen being free of charge. Tim explained that the training center, which was in development on the same floor of the DJG Security firm, was being completely funded by a donation from the Wayne Foundation, earning a monstrous applause. From there, they did a few demonstrations, dressed in their fine clothing and in front of hundreds. Tim charmingly portrayed the assailant while Cassandra effortlessly defended herself.

The crowd had eaten it up, even laughing when she had knocked him to the ground in a single move, leaving him to gasp into his microphone, "She's much nicer to her students than her husband…"

Thankfully, Bruce had felt well enough to stay for the entire night. I had caught him fading several times during the dinner and presentations but he was quick to smile when I squeezed his hand. We had been seated at a private table along with Ronna, Barbara and Ethan, who had surprisingly been quiet all night. That was until Dick had finally made his way over and had the poor child laughing hysterically after a few funny faces.

Although I would never admit it aloud, it made me feel like a very proud mama cat seeing the boys all grown up and all so happy.

Tim and Dick profusely thanked Bruce for coming, along with the donation. After a few necessary publicity photos with Bruce, Lucius, myself and the firm's employees, we called it a night. I sat close to him the entire ride home, my head gently resting on his shoulder. When he didn't answer to my inquiry as to how he was feeling, I sat upright, "Bruce?"

He jerked slightly, "What?" After I repeated my question, he finally sighed, "Tired."

"I bet."

We were five minutes from the Manor when he took my hand into his and glanced over at me, his face taking on a solemn look that always caused my gut to turn cold. He started with, "I have something to tell you… And I don't want you to be upset…"

I listened quietly as he explained why he had been pushing himself of late, why he had been spending so much unnecessary time in the Cave and why he couldn't seem to settle down after what had happened in the spring.

After his confession, he had apologized, "I should have told you sooner, and I know… I keep lying to you like this… and I know it makes you angry…"

Normally, I would have yelled at him for once again keeping something from me, for trying to protect me.

At the very least, I should have hit him or called him an arrogant jackass.

But things had changed between us, in a way that was both good and bad.

Instead of yelling or hitting or name calling, I simply squeezed his hand back.

^V^