Chapter Text
Gotham City, Ten Years Later
BEEEP! BEEEEEP!
The sound of the horn did absolutely nothing to decrease the utter quagmire that had formed in the middle of the city. It was to be expected though. They were caught in the tail end of rush hour, and the woman seated in the rear of the limousine understood that. She just smiled serenely through the partition, her head resting in her hand and her elbow upon the rest at her side.
“Vic…honking isn’t going to make it go any piu veloce”.
“I…I know but…”
The redheaded man in his cap and uniform just sighs, lowering his head and shaking it back and forth, resigned to waiting here for at least another forty five minutes or so. Helena Mandragora smiles and laughs, nodding her head in agreement.
“I know dear. I know. Just be patient”.
The woman who, although she had aged, was still a stunning example of Italian American beauty, turned her head to the side, looking down at the little boy who was idly looking out the window beside him, his seatbelt secured tightly across his chest. As per her request, he was dressed in a suit, as she wore a dress, purple, with a black sash across her midsection. He also didn’t even seem to notice Gotham surrounding him, having become so used to it.
Without thought Helena reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair, gaining her his attention as he jumps for a second and then turns, looking up at the woman with those bright, adorable blue eyes that she wasn’t sure if he’d gotten from her or his father. His hair was the same dark hue as both of them as well, and his facial features? A shoe in for a young Bruce Wayne.
Stephen Thomas Mandragora-Wayne was the spitting image of his father.
“What is it, tesoro?”
He looked nervous, frightened. Something that he definitely shouldn’t have been today. He should be excited! Happy. He was, after all, on his way to his tenth birthday party at Wayne Manor, an extravagant and utterly over the top moment that his father had insisted upon him having.
“N-nothing”.
She narrows her eyes a bit, though her smile does not leave her face, making it clear that she was not angry with him.
“Stephen…what did mama tell you about lying?”
“I’m not” he says, though utterly lacking in conviction. “I-,”
“Stephen”.
Her warning tone was enough, and it always had been. Stephen Wayne was an exceptionally well behaved little boy and the few times he did start to get out of line? All it would take was a single look from his mother or father and he’d jump right back behind it and not make that same mistake for months. Well and his stepmother too. He always listened to her, but the truth was? She was far, far too lax with him. He could get away with anything if it was just her watching.
“I…”
“What did I tell you about lying?”
She repeats her question softly, making it clear that she demanded not only an answer but the truth as well. He looks down at his dress shoe clad feet which didn’t touch the floor yet, the boy still not having hit his growth spurt it seemed, and sighs.
“Not to”.
“Buono. I’m glad you at least listen to your mother. What’s wrong, tesoro?”
She strokes his head once more, moving on in close as she hugs him, the woman never, not ever, denying affection. That wasn’t how she parented. Neither was it Bruce’s way. It takes him a second, and he apparently doesn’t want to tell her, but always, every time, he would let the truth out. His mother was the one person he’d always tell anything and everything to.
“I…I don’t wanna go to the birthday party”.
“What?”
That came from the driver’s seat, Vic listening in on everything and voicing his surprise, reminding the little boy that he was still there too. Helena just looks up and smirks at the man through the rearview mirror, the two communicating far, far too much through just a simple glance. “Why wouldn’t you want to go buddy?”
The man’s monotone played out as it always did. Stoic, unyielding, and yet containing a hidden care that went far, far beyond what a driver for a rich and famous woman should have for the woman’s son.
In any other rich household in the city, this would’ve been grounds for dismissal. But not in Helena’s. No. Not there. Vic was always welcomed, and indeed demanded of, to speak his mind. This meant that for Stephen? It wasn’t even a question of answering the ‘help’s’ insolent question.
“I…I…I’m scared. Dad invited a whole bunch of other kids from school. And…they don’t like me”.
‘This again’.
Helena sighed, but good naturedly. She knew about Stephen’s problems with making friends. He’d always had the issue. For some reason he just…turtled up, seemingly wanting nothing to do with the world if it wasn’t his mother, his father, or their extended family.
“Have you given them a chance to like you?”
“What do you mean?”
The conversation between Vic and Stephen continued with Helena simply rubbing the little boy’s back lovingly, wanting to see where this went. It had become abundantly clear in the years since she’d hired him, when Stephen was two, that there was a kinship between the two. Stephen could just as easily go to Vic as he could to Bruce. Maybe even easier as they were at least in the same house.
“Well you tend to assume that nobody is going to like you buddy. You’re sabotaging yourself. If you just opened up, played with the other kids and talked with them, I’m sure that at least a few of them will like you. Statistically of course some won't, but-,”
“Ah hem”.
Helena raises an eyebrow at the driver who catches her meaning through the mirror and quickly backs off of his overly analytical vein of thought, knowing that the truth wasn’t going to help the scared little boy make friends.
“Well…you know. You’re not going to know unless you try. Besides, the girls are going to be there”.
Stephen smiled a bit at that, always loving whenever his sisters were mentioned as being present somewhere he was going. He loved spending time with them, and every chance they got they did, be it for them to go over to Wayne Manor or for them to come to their manor on the outskirts of Gotham. It didn’t matter.
‘I wish things would’ve been a little different, bambino. I wish I could’ve had us all live together’.
It was a nice thought but one she knew was always going to be unworkable. They needed their own space. All of them. Her and Bruce? They would never be a romantic couple, but it was clear, very clear, that there was physical attraction there, and Helena would always love the man for giving them a son.
Suffice to say that was grounds enough for her to veto that idea.
Karen Wayne was very, very, territorial, and while she smiles everytime she saw Helena get a little too close to Bruce, it was clear that it was forced and hiding a very deep fear. Once or twice, in the early days, she had smashed a glass she was holding, or bent a spoon with her index finger. It was fortunate that she was invulnerable.
Since then, of course, it had cooled down, but even still Helena knew that Karen, or Kara, she went by both at least within the family, would’ve been uncomfortable, and her friendship with the blonde alien mattered to her more than enough to make sacrifices.
‘It doesn’t matter. Whenever they want to see each other, they see each other. Nothing will ever stop that’.
Stephena, following the joyful high of knowing his sisters would be there, Martha, Bethany and Katherine, frowns and looks away.
“I…I don’t want them to always have to hang out with me. They want their own friends. Dad doesn’t have to make them stay with me”.
“Who ever said that they didn’t want to be near you?” Helena asks, scandalized at the very thought. It simply wasn’t true. The triple terrors, something Helena wished to have trademarked, would never leave Stephen’s side if they could help it. She gently grasps Stephen’s face and turns it so that he’s looking up at her, taking the direct, fierce approach in place of Vic’s soft, rational one.
“You listen to me, Stephen Wayne. Your sisters? Love you. Mama Karen loves you. Your papa loves you. Uncle Jason, Aunt Barda and little Bruce love you”.
Of course she had to reference Jason and Barda as well as their two year old son. The little toddler was an utter joy, though like Stephen he was a mama’s boy through and through. His parents were both said to be way too indulgent with him, and only recently had the process of ‘weaning’ him off breastfeeding had begun as a result.
But regardless, the little boy himself seemed to love Stephen, entertained for hours by whatever he would have to show or talk to him about.
“Capiscimi?”
She squeezes his cheeks a bit, giving him an adorable fish look that almost made his mother want to burst out laughing, only miraculously able to keep a straight face as he looks up at her and nods.
“Yes mama”.
“In italiano”.
“Si mama”.
She laughs finally and releases him, leaning in to kiss his forehead lovingly, continuing to stroke his shoulders. “Hahaha. Bravo ragazzo. You just need to try and be yourself more. Let the amazing little guy we all know and love be seen by others. Okay?”
“Okay mama”.
“When you get to the party? No moping, and no going off to the library to read books”. He wanted to voice a protest, opening his mouth to begin so as the library at Wayne Manor was very clearly his favorite room, when she stopped him. “Tonight, you can go. After you play in the bouncy houses and do everything your papa thinks you’d like to do. After presents and everything else. Okay?”
“Si mama”.
“Good boy. Very good boy. Smile huh?” she teases, poking him in the side, making the little boy giggle uproariously. “It’s a good day. A very good day”. With that she looks back into the rearview and smiles at Vic who smiles back. It was very clear to them, and those around them, that there was something.
A deep wellspring of feeling. Love, really.
“Vic? You’re gonna stay right?”
“Where else would I be? Did you think I’d stay in the car and wait while everyone else is having fun?”
“No. Hehe. But when we get there can I help separate the soy foods from the not soy foods?”. Helena rolls her eyes and sighs again, another quirk of her son revealing itself, though this one was entirely courtesy of Vic Sage, her driver and lover.
“Fermare. I already told you. Soy isn’t bad”.
“For men it is,” Vic pipes up, drawing Stephen’s quick nods of agreement. “It’s true mama! They decrease test-test-testy-testosterone levels!” He was proud of himself now, pronouncing the world correctly even through his excitement.
“Exactly right buddy. Exactly right”.
“Ugggggh”.
Helena could only throw her hands up in defeat, knowing that there was no way, not in hell, that she was winning this one. “Fine! It’s bad, and you two should separate all the soy and non-soy foods. Just leave me out of this. Mama intends to eat the amazing spread that she set up for this party”.
She was indeed looking forward to it, knowing a secret that only she and the redheaded driver knew right now. Her hand goes to her belly, lightly rubbing it, an act that went unnoticed by Stephen as he now jabbered on, apparently in a much better mood. Helena Mandragora was pregnant, and the father? The red headed Irishman who’d been an investigative reporter until about eight years ago when Helena had seen him and been smitten from that first sight.
She’d never forget it. How he approached her, asking questions so politely, but firmly, about her past criminal connections. He was freelancing and apparently, through her shock and initial lust for the man, she’d found out about that.
She’d offered him a job as her driver. He said yes, clearly thinking it was a good way to get in deeper with the story. After a few months it was clear the attraction was mutual. But now? It was more than that.
She was pregnant, and he’d asked her to marry her.
She’d said yes, of course, but things would have to go slow. For one? She had to make Bruce and Kara aware, and to her utter lack of surprise they were ecstatic for her. Bruce especially so, offering to pay for the wedding and everything, while Kara had already inserted herself as maid of honor and had taken over as much wedding planning as there needed to be.
You could take the alien tyrant off of her planet but she’d still want power. Even if she was now a heroine who’d saved the world a hundred times over, and her husband a retired vigilante who’d saved Gotham a dozen times.
Helena wasn’t worried about any weirdness with the other side of the family. No. She was worried about her son. How would he take it? Having a stepfather couldn’t have been all that different from having a stepmother, but still..she was worried.
They were waiting. Waiting for the right time to break it to the little boy that not only did they want to get married, but that he was going to have another sibling.
‘This weekend. We’ll sit him down and explain it’.
She was resolved to that now, and Vic winks back at her through the rearview before turning his attention back to Stephen. “Besides. Some people there already like you. That little redhead’s going to be there. The little girl…what was her name?”
Stephen instantly went silent, quiet and red cheeked, not at all liking how this put him right in the spotlight. Vic was teasing him too, as he clearly knew exactly who he was talking about. But Helena played along, smirking. “Ohhh that’s right. Barbara Gordon. Babs will be there tesoro”.
“Ohh…well…that’s nice”.
The two adults wanted to burst into laughter, and they most likely would have had it not been for their gut instinct to hold back on teasing the little boy too harshly. It was clear, very clear, that he had a crush, and one that was all too openly reciprocated by little Babs who insisted that one day they were going to get married, loudly, and pointedly, every time she saw him.
It was cute, adorable, and Stephen was far too much of a gentleman to run screaming calling out about cooties as other boys his age would do.
It was going to be a nice party.
They always were.
He had nothing to be worried about.
Apokolips, Palace of Queen Lashina, Pleasure Gardens
The Pleasure Gardens were an apt description of the place that the queen of this planet was now standing within. Where once there had been darkness and the looming shadows of carnivorous plants there were now colorful flower petals and bright hues that came in through the glass ceiling above, bathing the entire area in light.
“Hehehehehe! Daddy! Daddy! Tell the one about the space dolphins!”
“Again Stompa?” Orion, clad in his regal, red royal robes as he holds the rather chubby and stocky little girl in his lap, lightly bouncing her. “I told you that one last weekend”. The little girl claps her chubby hands together and nods eagerly, shaking with excitement.
“But I wanna hear it again daddy!”
“Space dolphin! Space dolphin!”
She was aided by her little brother, the little boy seated to the side of his father upon a cushion which kept him from falling, and cozy if he wanted to simply fall asleep right there. Orion laughs, something that sends a thrill up the woman who was watching him from a distance’s spine. She smiles and closes her eyes, taking in her family’s joy.
‘By Apokolips…’
She never would’ve thought this possible. Not ever before, but clearly it was. She had it. She was looking at it. It was tangible, physical and in the air. Lashina was happy. Happier than anyone else in the entire universe it felt like to her. She stayed back, wanting to continue observing, making sure that the parademon detachment was there to protect them, but also far enough away so as to not intrude on their fun.
“Okay, okay. With the both of you wanting it, I can’t exactly say no, can I? Alright, so there I was, somewhere near Korugar…” The words trail off, their meaning less important to Lashina than their existence as she takes in the little boy at Orion’s side, latched onto every word his father spoke. He was her little copy, with dark hair and a rather mischievous visage, though he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. She was, in many ways, her pride and joy, and she’d spend hours with Herald simply walking about the planet that he was a prince of.
And Stompa?
Well…she was harder to explain. Yes, she was a clone. A clone of the very sister she had lost years ago now, brought to life by Bernadeth and offered to her and Orion as, of all things, a wedding present. At the time? Lashina had been disgusted, horrified. To see them brought back? And in such a way?
She wanted to have Bernadeth killed right then and there.
Only Orion and Avia had talked her out of it, the New Genesians moved, clearly, by the mewing bundles. She’d acquiesced, and allowed them and Bernadeth to live. And over time? She found that loving the little girls was far, far easier than she would’ve thought. Stompa always bounded over to her and simply reached her chubby little arms up, wanting to be picked up and held by her mother more than anything.
Even though she was a daddy’s girl through and through, she loved her mother, and despite her heaviness, even at such a young age, proof that she was following the same trajectory as the original Stompa was, Lashina never denied her that. Even now she would hold her, all while huffing out at the exertion.
“Oooof. My little princess. Only another year of me picking you up I think”.
“Hehe. I love you mommy!”
It warmed her heart. Every single time.
Stompa was growing up in a very different manner from her progenitor though. There was no abuse, no hatred and especially no bullying. Lashina had put her foot down entirely on that. She would not allow Stompa, or any of her children to be mocked, especially not by each other. Teasing? Sure. She, after all, was a huge fan of such pursuits. But bullying? Cruelty? That was not her way.
Not anymore.
“Heheh”.
She hears a giggle from her side that distracts her from Orion’s story, and when she turns her head she sees some of the flowers of the Tamaranean shadow bushes clinging to the sides of the path shaking.
She tilts her head in confusion.
“Hehe”.
She hears it again, though muffled, showing that whoever was laughing was trying to cover it up. And instantly Lashina knew who it was. She smiles as she continues to look down at the bush, tilting her head and moving forward, the trail of her robes teasing across the floor.
“I wonder if someone is hiding in this bush”.
“Hehe-ohhh…”
The source of the giggles went silent, apparently knowing that she’d been caught and trying to think of if she could salvage the situation and thus her plan. But this one? This one of Lashina and Orion’s children? She was most certainly the cleverest and she knew when the jig was up. A leaf lifts, a tiny, yellow little hand pushing it upwards, exposing a smiling, joy filled face to Lashina who kneels down instantly, being somewhat level now with Harriet.
The little girl, as usual, was utterly filthy. Her dress was now covered in mud and dirt, and her feet? Her feet were a travesty to behold, none of her natural hue breaking through the covering of dirt and filth. Harriet refused, absolutely refused, to wear shoes. Even when she spent all day playing in the garden.
“Ohh Harriet” Lashina whispers with a smile, reaching out for the girl’s cheek. “What am I ever going to do with you? You’re more beast than girl at this point”. She pokes her, right in the belly, drawing another giggle from the green haired, yellow skinned girl.
“Sorry mommy. I’ll take a bath tonight!” she offers, as if that was truly some sort of deal that would mean a lot to Lashina. “Of course you will. I have to give you it. Ohhh, get out of there stinky feet!” She gently extricates her daughter from the bush, using her nickname for her that had forever been hers, due to her distaste of shoes or even socks.
“You’re a mess”.
“I’m your mess right mommy?”
“As always, yes. An adorable little mess”.
“As I flew past though, I saw something. Gleaming in the stars”.
“What was it daddy?”
The story had continued on, and when Lashina heard the man speaking once more she smiled, looking back at her daughter who returned it. “Your father seems happy and relaxed, doesn’t he?”
“Uh huh” Harriet nods, her smile turning mischievous as she catches onto what her mother was driving at. Lashina and Harriet were certainly the closest. She adored and would kill or die for any of her children, but like Stompa and Orion, Lashina’s bond with Harriet was just a little different. She was her partner in crime. Always.
“I think it’s time we remind him to be alert, don’t you think?”
“Hehehehe”.
Harriet stood on her tippy toes, biting her lip as she did her little excited dance, never able to help it. It was her tick it seemed, and Lashina wouldn’t change it for the world. But for right now? She had to come up with a plan. Something that would certainly get at her husband. And oddly enough? It crawled right up towards them.
Atop one of the leaves that Harriet had been hiding under, crawled a Boloxian Dung Spider. It was a creature that, roughly, resembled an earth spider, though it had ten legs in place of eight. It had an extended body to the rear, causing it to be somewhat potato shaped, and was very large, fuzzy with tiny little fangs and only three eyes. Despites its gruesome appearance, the insect was harmless, and derived its name from the scent it would deploy to ward off predators.
‘Ahh, perfect!’
In an instant Lashina scoops the creature up, and turns to Lashina, cupping her hands over it as the little girl extends her own, already seeing her mother’s plan. Lashina was giddy now too, knowing how Orion absolutely loathed the spiders! They were endangered, and nearing extinction, which is why Lashina and Avia had taken it upon themselves to breed such species within the gardens.
“You know what to do, stinky feet”.
“Yes mommy”.
Harriet takes the bug, keeping it secure in her hands as she looks towards her father who was facing away from her and her mother at the moment, focused on sharing his story with Stompa and Herald. “Right in his hair baby girl”.
“Hehehehe!”
The little girl begins to rush off, leaving her mother behind to watch the chaos soon to unfold from a distance, a wry smile gracing her features. Some things would never change. She still absolutely loved tormenting her husband, and would likely continue to do so until the end of time. Now? Now she had a partner for such activities.
She turns her head to the side and looks at the statue that dominated this portion of the gardens, one that she had commissioned nearly right after her marriage to Orion. It was him and her, their hands locked together as they stood apart, clenched in the middle between them. Lashina’s stone visage was smirking at her newlywed husband, beautiful and resplendent in her regal gown, while he? He glared back, just as handsome as he always was.
‘Ohh Orion…the things I put you through. My dear, beloved husband’.
No matter how much she teased him, played jokes upon him and otherwise irritated him, it would always remain the truth that somewhere along the way, she’d fallen madly in love with him. So much so that she would never even attempt to imagine her life without him in it.
“Ohh, Harriet. Come here princess. Daddy was just-wha-what is-AHHHHHHHH!”
“HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!”
“GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! AHHHH! LASHINAAAAAAAAA!”
The woman just smiles to herself, breathing deeply and taking it all in as her children descend into laughter. ‘Tonight, I’ll make it up to him. I’ll wear that nightie he likes and I’ll rub his back. Ohh? And I’ll tell him it’s time for us to work upon another child’. The queen of Apokolips wasn’t done yet. No, not by a long shot.
The Grounds of Wayne Manor
“There he is! There he is!”
Vic had barely opened the door to help Helena and Stephen out when their arrival was noted, and right on the tail of that? Four heads of blonde hair, all rushing forward right towards him. Stephen smiled and braced himself, knowing that if it weren’t for the ‘civilians’ around, they would’ve been on him quicker than the blink of an eye.
As it stood though? They still ran, very quickly, down the small hill at the bottom of which Vic had parked.
“STEPHEN!”
Martha, Bethany and Katherine, each one wearing different colored dresses of the same make, red for Martha, blue for Bethany and yellow for Katherine, were upon him in an instant, and slammed into the little boy as they threw their arms around him.
“YOU’RE HERE!”
“Wait till he sees all the presents!”
“Mine's the best! The one I got him is the best!”
“No it isn’t! Besides, you just picked it out! Mommy and daddy bought it for him!”
While Martha and Katherine argued, Bethany leaned in and pecked the boy’s cheek, smiling happily as she hugged him tight. “Happy birthday Stephen! We’re glad you’re here!”
“And why wouldn’t he be?” a woman says, wading through the triple terrors with ease, the children each appearing to be an exact, carbon copy of her. Each one of them had bright blue eyed, sun colored hair and slightly tanned white skin, but Kara? She was the epitome of female beauty. She had gotten numerous offers for movies, advertising, modeling, everything. And yet? She’d always turned it down.
They didn’t know it, but her first priorities were her family and protecting this world in that order.
“It’s his party after all. Scoot over girls. Mama Kara’s turn”.
In an instant, like the parting of the Red Sea, the girls unhappily move away, not liking it when they couldn’t be right on top of Stephen it appeared. They were each very protective over him, the shy little boy being their best friend and partner in all sorts of mischief. Always the sidekick, never the instigator.
As soon as they did, Kara moved to her knees, a light smile on her face.
One that grows even bigger as she throws open her arms.
“Stevie!”
“Mama Kara!”
He rushes forward and right into the woman’s grasp, the impact softened by the fact that Kara remained well endowed in the chest department, and the fact that he couldn’t hurt her even if he tried. She hugs him tightly, squeezing really, and leans down to kiss his dark locks over and over again.
“Muah! Muah! Muah! I’m so happy to see you birthday boy” she says, picking him up without even thinking or breaking a sweat, rising up again with the smile remaining. “I’m happy to see you too”.
“Not happier than I am. C’mere. Gimme a kiss”.
Dutifully, but happily, he leans in and pecks her cheek, causing the woman to beam even more as she lightly bounces him. Helena feels fear seize her heart as she remembered what Stephen most liked as a baby.
Being tossed into the air by Kara, and then? Caught. It had happened so many times, but never more fear inducing for Helena than when she tossed the giggling little babe twenty feet in the air, and then caught him like it was nothing.
‘Please…never again. My heart won’t take it’.
“The girls are right though. Your presents? You’re gonna freak this year. Literally, best year ever. You should see it. Your dad? He went all out”.
“R-really?”
“Yeah, he did,” Kara says, sensing something was off as she turns to Helena. “He’s doing that low self esteem thing again, isn’t he?” Helena nods in confirmation. “He’s worried so many kids from scuola have been invited. He thinks they don’t like him”.
“If they don’t we’ll squash ‘em” Katherine says happily, drawing a fist bump of approval from Martha. “Yeah. Don’t worry Stephen. We’ll toss them out if they’re mean”.
“Don’t worry” Bethany coos, always the more level headed one. “You’ll always have us”.
Stephen was blushing under the weight of all the praise, smiling though, happy as his fear began to melt away. The group was walking up towards the party, and the terrors stayed back, each hugging the legs of either Vic or Helena.
“Hi Mama Lena!”
“Hi Uncle Vic!”
“Ciao girls. Muah!”
Like Kara with Stephen she leans down and kisses the tops of their heads lovingly, she being just as much a stepmother to them as Kara was to Stephen. And Vic? Well, he was already accepted within the Wayne Family as essentially Helena’s husband. Even if Stephen was still out of the loop.
“We can’t wait to see how he reacts to what we got! He’s gonna flip his lid”.
“I sure hope so”.
Helena and the others catch up to Kara and Stephen quickly, the woman walking slowly to make sure they could do so. Helena caught the conversation Kara was having with her son. “You’ve gotta realize. You’re awesome sweetheart”.
“I am?”
“Uh huh. You’re already such a lady killer. I mean, little Barbara Gordon has been asking when you were getting here alllll morning. Besides, you’re smart. Funny. Nice. You need to like yourself more. Because all of us? We love you”.
Helena moves up to Kara’s side, reaching out for her son, wanting to carry him up to see his father, and the blonde allows it, her instead taking Bethany’s hand as Bethany locks hands with Martha who in turn takes Katherine’s.
“Good to see you Hel. Muah”.
Helena takes the affectionate kiss on the cheek and then eagerly returns it, happy beyond words at the proof of the family’s affection being made evident for her son. “You too Kara. Mmm. It already smells amazing. Something is sweet in the air, that’s for sure”.
“You can thank her for that”.
Three more familiar figures appear, moving out from behind a carnival tent that had been set up on the outskirts of the hill, apparently for the cooking aspect of everything. There they were. Jason Todd and his wife Barda, the former holding their little boy tightly in his arms even as he squirmed, wanting to get out of his father’s grasp.
“Hey! Relax buddy! Relax! Hehe!”
“Evie!”
Little Bruce still called Stephen ‘Evie’, not quite able to pronounce the “s” or the “ph” yet. But he was getting close.
“Hi Bruce”.
Stephen was put down by Helena, just in time for his Uncle Jason to get close and kneel down, allowing the toddler to reach out for one of his favorite playmates. He was already tired out, the terrors having gotten to him first, but he’d still have time for Stephen. Always.
“Appy Birfday”.
“Thank you Bruce. I love you”.
“Awwww”.
The entire group cooed at that, though in the aftermath the triplets had snuck away from their mother and over towards their Aunt Barda, who smiled, watching over everything. Barda stuck out even more now, and not only for her size and strength. No. The fact that she was wearing a chef’s apron, and had her sleeves rolled up also helped. Jason had the same. The aprons were emblazoned with the slogan and symbol of their bakery.
‘Barda’s Bakery’ as it was simply called, the tagline being that it had the best buns in the business. Only later did Jason explain to his very eager wife, who had taken up, of all things, baking, the sexual innuendo. By that point it was too late and they were stuck. Besides, it got them plenty more business it seemed and Jason always would tease her that her buns were indeed the best in the business.
“Aunt Barda?”
“Yeah sweetie?” she says, responding to Martha tugging on her apron, looking down at the little girl who was purposefully making doe eyes at her, knowing it would get her what she was about to ask for. “Are the peanut butter cookies done yet?”
“Eh! You know the rules!” Jason calls out, wagging his finger while still holding Bruce, the little boy cuddling into his father.
“Not until birthday boy gets some. Besides, I haven’t gotten to the batter yet. Still putting the last touches on the cake…which is going to be…awesome by the way”. Barda still somewhat struggled with Earth lingo, though most took that as an eccentricity of hers.
Many were intimidated by the woman too.
How she would glare at customers who were rude or arrogant, or simply taking too long. It served her well in all actuality. The absolute brickhouse of a woman had set their bakery up in Hell’s Kitchen, which had, since the Batman stopped killing, experienced something of a crime renaissance as of late.
A robbery had been attempted. Once.
Barda stopped it by throwing the man with a gun through the plate glass window before fiddling through his bag and stealing whatever money he had for repairs. People knew better after that, and Barda’s became a haven of peace in the area.
“Awww”.
“Don’t worry sweetcakes. You know I’ll make a whole bunch extra for you three. I always do”. She turns over towards Helena and smiles happily, waving to Vic and the other woman as the greetings were getting drawn out. “Hello all. Happy birthday Stephen!”.
The little boy’s eyes were wide at that moment, taking in the information that his aunt had made his birthday cake.
“Woah! You made my birthday cake Aunt Barda?”
“Of course I did” she coos out lovingly. “I only wanted the very best for my favorite nephew”.
“Stephen!”
A blur of red could be seen now, and this one? Well, she wasn’t nearly as careful as the terrors had been. “Ooof!” The boy falls to the floor, a tiny little figure above him, giggling like a madwoman as she’d done it, leaning up only at the last moment to look down into the boy’s face.
“Got you! Happy birthday!”
She kisses him, right on the cheek, and the boy’s face goes completely and utterly red.
“Thank you Babs”.
“Babs, sweetie! Stop smothering the poor boy”. That came from Barbara Gordon senior, the woman coming up while holding her son Jimmy Jr. The girl, who was a few years older than Stephen at this point, smiles and pulls herself off of him, helping the boy up. She hadn’t lost her youthful exuberance, not yet, and as soon as she pulls him up she smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry for knocking you down”.
“It’s okay”.
“Well, I hope so. A trip to the emergency room would really ruin this day”.
“Dad!”
Stephen’s eyes lit up as another man moves up, none other than Bruce Wayne, and he rockets towards him, throwing his arms around his father’s leg and hugging him tightly. It was enough to make Kara and Helena both coo in appreciation, knowing that the bond the little boy had with his father was unbreakable.
“Hey buddy. Happy birthday”.
He takes his hand with ease as Helena and Kara both move up, the man dutifully and respectfully kissing the boy’s mother’s cheek. “Donna Mandragora”.
“Mr. Wayne”.
They were all smiles now, with not even the barest hint of an issue remaining it seemed. Both Bruce and Helena were the best of friends, dedicated to raising their son together while building their family with their loves. “Wow!”.
“Noticing it huh?” his father asks as Stephen’s eyes move out over the area outside the manor which was now filled with all the things a child would like. Bouncy houses, a small petting zoo were a few kids who’d arrived early were riding miniature ponies.
Arcade games set up under a patio, snacks set out galore, and, above all? A tower of presents.
“All for you buddy. I just want you to have a good day. Alright?”.
He kneels down, wanting to be equal with his son.
“You deserve it”.
“Thanks dad”.
Bruce just leans in and kisses his forehead before ruffling his hair. Things had always been hard for Bruce on this front. Not always having him under his roof, the necessary separation that had to exist due to their unique circumstances at times. It hurt, but then again? He was always one hundred percent available for any of his kids at any time. Barbara as well who, as painful as it was for him, had made him a father figure in her life to replace Jim Gordon.
‘Stop. No dark thoughts today. Stop it’.
“I love you buddy. How about you go and get the bouncy castle warmed up with your sisters huh? And Babs here too”.
“Yeah! Yeah! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
The terrors were especially excited now, pulling on Stephen as they try and get him forward, wanting to start their games of fun and play, Babs tagging right behind with little Bruce reaching out, indicating his desire to join too. Jason stops that though, knowing the boy was still far too young for roughhousing of that sort.
“Not yet buddy. Another year or two. How about this? You help mommy and I with the final prep on some things, and I’ll let some chocolate frosting go missing”.
“Choco! Choco! Choco!”
“That’s a deal then”.
Kara moves up besides Bruce and discretely slips her hand into his, squeezing it lovingly as she watches their assembled group of children move off, swept up in the happiness of the day. Stephen had shed his nervousness like a snake skin, and was now at peace and at home.
“I think we did good”.
“Hmmm”.
“Ugggh you still do that?” she asks rhetorically, leaning in and nuzzling against her husband, more than content as the others filter out, Helena and Vic starting to talk to Barbara senior and the Todds getting back to work.
“Even after all these years”.
“Sorry”.
“No you’re not”.
She goes silent, watching over everything and thinking back over it, trying her best to keep her emotions in check. “Do you…do you think they’d be proud of us?” she asks, turning to Bruce as he instantly understands what she’s asking.
“I hope so. But that isn’t why we did all of this”.
This of course meaning Gotham. The Earth. Saving so many lives that it was practically unknown the exact number. At least to them. “I know, but…still. It would be nice”. He reaches around her, grasping her by the shoulder and truly living in the moment right then. “I’m proud of you”.
“And I’m proud of you”.
“Maybe that’s what matters the most”.
She nods her head, sighing in agreement, knowing that it was the best they could hope for. Power Girl and Batman. Heroes, though it had taken them a while to get that way. They were happy now, content.
“I love you Kara”.
“And I love you. Always Bruce Wayne”.
Watching from atop the manor, an unseen spirit gazes down, her green coat floating out behind her, swaying on the wind.
And she smiles.
She’d never tell them, not while they were alive as she’d already done too much but yes, they were all very, very proud of them.
Years Later, Wayne Manor, Bruce’s Study
The gun felt heavy in her hand. Too heavy almost. She’d come very near to dropping it at least a dozen times on her way up the stairs. It was odd really. Her service pistol had never felt that heavy before. Never, even after she’d had to use it in self defense and take a life.
But now?
It felt like she was holding the weight of the world in her hand.
It had also felt like a century had passed between when she opened the door to Wayne Manor, a very familiar place, a place where she had spent so much of her life, and actually getting up the stairs and to the open door. The door had been open when she got there, which was odd. He usually kept it closed.
‘He’s waiting for me’.
That was the only thought that shot through her mind at that moment, and it was the only one that made sense. ‘He knows. The bastard has to fucking know!!’ She was seething, angered beyond words as she slams her body against the opposite wall, almost as if she was preparing for a breach. It was instinct. Pure instinct.
Barbara Gordon-Wayne was a weapon.
The woman had grown into an absolute beauty, one that didn’t fade even with the onset of middle age. Her hair was still bright red, showing only the initial signs of fading to gray that would take place in the coming years. She was full figured, only gaining a bit of weight after her two pregnancies. And she was poised like a lioness to kill.
She’d just gotten off of patrol, detective Barbara Wayne of the GCPD. Homicide division, a unit that had seen increasing use over the years, but never enough to make it so people really wanted it to go back to the old days.
The days when Batman was a dictator.
She was still wearing her black sweater with her holster on it, her khakis clinging to her body as she shakes, a tear forming in the corner of her eye and falling down her cheek. She wasn’t ready for this. Not at all. But she had to be.
She didn’t have a choice.
In a flash she turns the corner and rushes forward, drawing a bead on the man she was looking for in an instant. He’d made no effort, none whatsoever, to hide or to cover himself. He just sat in his chair behind his desk, like some sort of king, clutching the arms and staring ahead, a look of pain on his face.
Seeing him…right there.
It reminded her of so much. Of how he used to take her and her husband, before he was her husband of course, into his office and sit them down. Just talk. About anything. Nothing. Hours would pass by like this. It was the same desk that she’d stood in front of on the day she graduated the academy, still dressed in her fresh, blue GCPD uniform. It was in front of that desk that Barda, Kara, Helena and her mother had spoke to her on her wedding day as her groom waited downstairs.
It was at this desk that he held her after her mother died of cancer, and when Jimmy was arrested as a serial killer.
So much had happened for her in this room, and after tonight? Something else would be added to that list.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”
“Barbara-,”
“DON’T FUCKING TALK TO ME!” she shouts, her stance wide as she holds the pistol with both hands, glaring at the man hatefully with tears running down her cheeks. Her pistol shook. Now more than ever as she came face to face with the aged man. Bruce was old. There was no dressing it up. His hair was completely gray, and his face? Wrinkled completely. His body had started to fail him and he required a cane to move, a cane which sat leaned up against the side of his desk.
He looked…tired. Broken, and it wasn’t only age. Bruce was usually smiling, busy with this charity event or this thing with his children or many grandchildren. He rarely frowned. So to see him like this…even with what she knew. It hurt Barbara.
He falls silent, waiting for Barbara to speak. To say what she had to say.
“You know who I just talked to?” she asks, barely able to resist stuttering.
“Harvey Bullock” the man says simply, hitting the nail on the head. “He died fifteen minutes ago”. The old man looks down at that, shaking his head and taking a deep breath, trying to collect himself. “And twenty minutes before that you went to speak with him. To say goodbye to your old partner”.
“HE MURDERED MY FATHER!” she shouts, seething. “AND HE DID ON YOUR FUCKING ORDERS! HIM AND THAT BITCH MONTOYA! THEY SHOT HIM IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD!”. She was breaking down. Hard. This was unbearable for Bruce. It truly, truly was.
“AND IT WAS ON YOUR ORDERS!”
“Yes”.
It was immense.
The weight he felt saying that. Letting that one, single word that confirmed everything out, telling Barbara the truth. He closed his eyes after it, feeling as if a bomb had just gone off. He rises, ignoring the woman as he struggles to get up, reaching out for his cane.
“I knew you were Batman…I found out…years ago…I never…I never…I couldn’t put the pieces together” she says, keeping her pistol trained on Bruce. “But that’s because I didn’t want to. You. You controlled everything in Gotham. Everything. To think that a police lieutenant would’ve been killed without you being involved? I…I…”
“I never wanted you to know”.
“TO PROTECT YOURSELF!!”
“To protect you” he corrects firmly, refusing to let that untruth stand. It seemed to stop Babs in her tracks for a second. Bruce sighs and turns away again, hobbling forward a bit and only stopping when Babs tenses, making it clear that he wasn’t to come any closer.
“There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t want to tell the world who I was. To let justice take me. But I couldn’t. There were too many variables. Too many things only I could control. Only I could do”.
“You lied…because you’re a selfish…arrogant…evil…bastard”.
“Maybe I am. But I love you Barbara”.
“DON’T FUCKING SAY THAT!”
She roars as she rushes forward, closing the gap between them as she presses the pistol right to his temple. To his credit? Bruce barely reacts, staying right where he was. He just looks at Babs with his sorrow filled eyes. “You killed my father…you took Jim Gordon out of this world…”
“I can never fix that. But…I…I tried. I tried to make you, your brother and your mother’s lives better”.
“YOU THINK THAT MAKES IT OKAY?”
“No” he says, shaking his head, only seeming to anger Babs more and more each second. “I know it doesn’t. But that wasn’t what it was about. Babs…I looked at you…when I came back…and I saw…me. I saw the evil I’d done to you and I knew…I just knew. I had to do something”.
“You took his place” she cries. “You taught me how to ride a bike. You helped me with homework, helped me get into the academy. You walked me down the aisle. You held my babies in your lap and called them your grandchildren…AFTER YOU HAD MY FATHER KILLED!”
“I had to save you” he continues on. “I had to save you from becoming me”.
He looks at her, pleading with his eyes, begging her to believe him.
“I love you Babs. And everything I did, I did to keep you safe. I was an evil man. I deserve this”. He turns, reaching out for her wrist and turning, placing it right in the center of his forehead. Babs was close, so damn close, to just pulling the trigger. “If you need to do this? To make it better? To make the pain stop? Then you do it, and don’t feel a bit of guilt. Nothing will happen. I’ve already told Aunt Kara to just…clean up the body. Make it like it never existed. No evidence. Nothing. Wiped away at the subatomic level. Nobody will ever know”.
She was crying now, looking into the man’s eyes and knowing he meant it.
“But know this? I…am so proud of you. You are the best daughter in-law I could have ever asked for. You, the triplets…Stephen…you’re all more than I ever deserved. Do it Babs. Please. If it’ll help you…do it”.
Seconds pass, once more feeling like an eternity, and Babs almost is able to force herself to pull the trigger. Almost.
Slowly, as her tears grow more intense, the gun lowers and then drops away from her completely, clattering to the floor. Bruce looks at her with confusion in his eyes, but also overwhelming care. “How could you do this to me?”
She was beginning to fall, her knees buckling, and the old man, showing a surprising strength, rushes forward and grasps her up, holding her tightly to his chest. On instinct she would clutch at him, in many ways still that same little girl that was clinging to the one man who seemed like he could understand her.
There they were on the floor in his study, clinging to each other for dear life as Bruce cries silent tears of self loathing, rubbing his hand through the back of Barbara’s head, rocking back and forth trying to comfort her.
“Why did you do that to me? Why? Why?”
He couldn’t give her an answer. It was a lifetime ago, and seemed so far away, so far removed from the man he was. But that didn’t change facts. He had done it.
Things wouldn’t be the same between Barbara Wayne and Bruce Wayne.
Of course she kept this a secret. Babs, more than anything, valued her family, and wanted to keep it intact. Her sons still called Bruce grandpa Bruce, and she never denied her husband the chance to spend time with his father. She smiled, hugged him politely when they saw each other, and pretended everything was fine when it wasn’t.
Five years later, Bruce Wayne would be in a hospital bed, breathing out his last and experiencing his final moments. Stephen was silent, unable to speak while the triplets? Each one inconsolable. Kara didn’t leave the hospital room, sleeping besides the man as death ravaged his body.
It was a painful time, but none more so than for Bruce Wayne.
On the day he passed Kara was asleep, unable to stay awake, and the others had to see to their own families, vowing to visit later. It was on this day, under the watchful eyes of nobody, that Barbara Wayne slipped into the room, and pulled up a chair at the man’s side. He knew she was there, and even as he needed the ventilator to breathe, he turned his head and looked at her with those broken, defeated eyes.
For a moment? She didn’t look at him.
But then? She did, and she reached out for his aged and scarred hand, and laced her digits through it, squeezing it to let him know she was there. She smiles, falteringly at first, and her breath hitches as her tears come.
“You’re dying”.
He nods slightly, showing that he understood and was fine with it. But even still he looked so sadly at her, clinging to something, needing something. And she knew exactly what it was. She chuckles to herself, making it seem to the man that she was happy about this course of events but when she looks up once more? He sees tears in her eyes, and feels his heart gripped by grief. “I should be happy” she whispers. “I should be ecstatic but…when I got the news two weeks ago? I haven’t stopped crying”.
He remains silent, unable to speak anyways. But he heard her, and that’s what mattered.
“I feel like I’m losing my dad all over again”.
She wanted to launch into it. Hurl expletives at him again. Tell him she hated him. But she couldn’t bring herself to lie in the man’s last moments. Bruce Wayne was an incredibly complex man. He’d started his life as a victim, and as a result? Became the oppressor. But, unlike so many others he’d taken a chance…and redeemed himself. He’d lived his life as someone who was worth while.
Who filled others’ lives with joy and meaning.
She squeezes his hand and leans in, bringing her lips to his cheek, knowing what he needed right now more than anything. “I forgive you”. Those words…the instant they were spoken…it was like the weight of the cosmos was lifted off of both Bruce’s and Barbara’s shoulders. The man’s breathing hitches, and weakly he squeezes her hand back.
“I love you Bruce. Even with what you did. I’m not like you”.
That?
That was the man’s ultimate victory and he smiles at her, proud beyond compare. His son? He was a doctor. He saved lives with a scalpel, opting to go against his mother’s wishes of him being a teacher. His daughters? All heroines, saving the world. And Barbara? She was safe. Safe and happy. Free of the chains that had so oppressed him his whole life.
Beep…beep…beep………beep……..beep…………….beep……………….
Barbara didn’t call the nurses. What was the point? Saving his life for another few hours of pain and agony? He was dying, and it was best to let the man die in peace, knowing that the good he’d done far outweighed the bad and that in the end? He would be missed. It was a peace Alfred Pennyworth did not get. A peace that Uxas did not receive.
Bruce Wayne died that day, loved and mourned with his hand in Babs’.
At peace with the world.