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saultnpeppah · 2 years

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Back to You: CH 3

There’s strife in the Wayne household!

Read Back to You chapter 3 now: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14077571/3/Back-to-You

May 19th. The Batcave. 02:51

Bruce

Damian jumps off his motorcycle, pulling the kickstand up and letting it rest, before he turns to where I stand. He pulls his hood down and off his head, aggressively tears his mask off his face, and slams it onto a neighboring table. "You let him get away!" he yells between clenched teeth. He's angry, very angry.

I take a deep breath and stare at Damian's face. His eyebrows are furrowed and he flares his nostrils as he pulls his gloves off his hands and throws them onto the table, letting them join his mask. "I did what I needed to," I explain. I reach up and grab the top of my mask, yanking it off my head, and wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my exposed hand. "He was going to lead us to his supplier," I say, carefully unclipping my belt and laying it on my desk.

"Bullshit!" he says, his hands clenching into fists.

I ignore his outburst, letting out a sigh as I turn toward the computer and turn it on, ready to input tonight's surveillance notes. "You failed to see the bigger picture," I state over my shoulder. "Arresting him and giving him to GPD would have ruined the entire operation." Damian lets out another huff and I roll my eyes. My son is intense at times. I can't fault him, it's how his grandfather and mother had raised him for a decade. It's something we've been working on since he was eleven. He now only has occasional outbursts when in moments of high stress or during strong bouts of emotions. Today it is the latter.

I knew seeing Diana would trigger something in Damian. He was a mess when she left, shutting down for days at a time. Even during patrols he wasn't himself - I had to send him home a few times fearing he would get himself hurt. Tonight is no different.

"That's a lie," Damian sneers. He pulls the upper part of his uniform off, knowing he needs to clean the blood from a mugger who was unfortunate enough to meet the bottom of his boot a few times, off sooner rather than later. Alfred would never forgive him for ruining another suit. "You're distracted because that woman is back in Gotham."

My shoulders tense with his statement. It's not the words he says that makes me cringe, it's the way he says it, emphasizing that he would rather call Diana "that woman" than call her by name. I turn to face Damian, watching with narrow eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest. The scar that runs from his left shoulder to the middle of his chest is highlighted by the lights in the cave, a memory of a night I thought I lost him three years ago trying to force its way to the forefront of my brain. I quickly push it back down. Now is not the time.

"Damian," I warn, the sound coming out more raspy than intended. "Don't."

Damian doesn't heed my warning. He shakes his head and throws his hands up in frustration. "You've always been distracted by that woman!"

"Damian," I say again, my voice raising a bit. I understand his frustrations with Diana, but she is still the mother to my child. She deserves some respect. "She will be here for a few days, and you will respect her while she is here."

Damian scoffs. "She left you, Bruce," he says. The sound of my name coming from his lips stings harder than intended. "She left all of us. She doesn't deserve respect." He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. His face begins to redden and I can see he is a few moments from self destructing. "The only reason I tolerate PJ is because she is still a part of this family. But that woman, Diana, is not a part of this family anymore and -"

"Enough!"

The sound that comes from my lips startles Damian and, quite honestly, myself. My intention wasn't to shout. I only meant to stop Damian before he continued down the path I've been on many times before, with hateful words that can't be unspoken. But my son finds ways to rile me up, bringing up things he knows will anger me, wanting me to feel the anger and hatred he feels. Diana is one of those things.

Damian opens his mouth to argue once more, but I shut it down before he can even begin. "This conversation is over," I say, my voice still raised. "It'll be a few days, then things will go back to normal." Damian only scoffs. "Nothing about this is normal," he mumbles under his breath, unaware I can hear him. With that he walks away, his shoulder brushing roughly against mine as he leaves. His boots leave heavy stomps throughout the cave, until he reaches the elevator and slams the gate closed, riding it back up to the manor.

When he is out of ear shot I let out a sigh and groan. He's right, nothing about this whole situation is normal, but nothing about me or my life has been normal since I was orphaned at eight. I've learned to manage my life around things. That includes when Diana left. This will just be yet another thing I'll manage.

I quickly turn back to the computer and start my surveillance notes, uploading the video and photos I've collected from patrol, trying to push Diana further from my mind. Like I told Damian, she's only here for a few days. When she leaves everything will go back to normal.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

03:40

I pull on a pair of dark sweats and gray shirt, my body still tense. The hot shower I had minutes before has done nothing to relieve the stress that has been building all day, and the more I think about Damian, Diana, and PJ, the more I feel the tension culminating into a headache. I run the towel over my face, drying the last bit of moisture from my beard, before I run it through my damp hair and toss the towel into the bathroom floor. I'll pick it up when I come back up, but for now I need something to settle this dull ache in my head before it becomes a full fledged migraine.

I quickly make my way out of my bedroom, walking down the hall, down the stairs and through the foyer, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake up anyone else. PJ is sound asleep, I checked in on her before I went to my room after patrol. Damian is - well I'm assuming he's grumbling in his room. And Diana is hidden away.

I continue toward the kitchen, my eyebrow raising when I see one of the lights still on. Maybe Alfred forgot to turn one off after cleaning after dinner. Maybe he left one on knowing I would be here after patrol, given what happened during dinner. Either way, I'm grateful to see where I am headed, instead of solely relying on the faint light from the moon. I step into the kitchen, the small smile on my face fading when I see I am no longer alone.

Diana sits at the small table in the corner, curled in one of the chairs. Her arms are wrapped around her legs, keeping them close to her chest. The oversized sweatshirt she wears slides off one of her shoulders, leaving the area bare, making my lips twitch into a smile. It used to be mine, but the first night she slept over she stole it and claimed it as her own, wearing it whenever she had a lot on her mind. I hate to admit it, but it's nice to see she hasn't pushed me completely out of her life.

On the table is a cup of tea. Small strands of steam rise from the cup, showing it hasn't grown cold, but she has definitely been sitting here a while. Something big must be on her mind. Some part of me wants to turn on my heel, rush back to my room, avoid being alone with her any longer than necessary. I take a step back, but it is too late, as she looks up from her cup and notices me in the doorway.

"Sorry," she whispers, standing from her seat so quickly she nearly knocks her cup of tea from the table. "I thought you would still be out."

I only shake my head, reach over to the light switch, and turn the rest of them on. The bright light causes both of us to squint momentarily until our eyes adjust. "I finished patrol a bit early," I explain. When we were together, it wasn't unlike myself to be out until six or seven in the morning; it was one of the changes I made when PJ started spending time at the manor.

Diana nods. "I told Alfred he could go to bed and I'd put away my items. Let me clean everything up and I'll go back to my room." She takes a sip from the cup on the table and walks to the trash, plucking the tea bag from the cup, placing it in the trash, before she heads to the sink.

"It's okay," I say as she turns on the sink and begins to gently wash the cup in her hands. As she rinses off the soap from the cup, I walk to the refrigerator, open it, and pull a bottle of water from one of the shelves. I quickly open the top of the bottle and chug half of its contents, listening as Diana turns off the water and places the now dry cup back into the cupboard. "Don't leave on my account."

Diana lets out a nervous chuckle. Her eyes don't meet mine as she leans against the sink, arms crossed. "It's your home, Bruce," she whispers. "I'm the one intruding here."

I walk past Diana to the end of the room, open the drawer Alfred usually keeps an extra supply of pain medication, and pull a bottle of Advil out and onto the counter. I can feel Diana's eyes on me as I twist open the top of the bottle and pour two pills in my hand, shoving them into my mouth and swallowing with a sip of water.

"Seems someone is getting a little too old for the nightly escapades," she says. Her tone is light and joking but I can see the frown on her face.

"You can say that again," I reply, finishing off the bottle in my hands. She lets out a laugh and my lips twitch into a smile once again. God, I've missed the sound of that laugh. I place the empty bottle on the edge of the breakfast bar and lean against the counter, my eyes focused on Diana, watching as she looks up from the floor.

We stare at each other in silence, both taking in the two people we now are. I noticed it the moment she walked through the door, but I was too shocked to make any comment about it when we spoke in my office. But her hair is shorter, falling right below her shoulders instead of the middle of her back. Her face now shows the faint lines that come with the responsibility of being Queen of the Amazons, and raising a child. Somehow I know PJ has been the cause of a majority of those.

Diana looks older, wiser, but is still as beautiful as ever. Her eyes are still a deep shade of blue, but where wonder and excitement used to lay, there is worry and exhaustion. I fear the island has stolen the best years of her life, although that may be the bias speaking.

"Did Alfred get you settled?" I ask, breaking the silence.

Diana nods and lets out a small sigh. "Yes, although I fear he is conspiring with our daughter to keep me here."

I shrug. "Of course those two are up to something," I say. That much was evident when he had walked into the dining room with Diana, a smug smile on his face as I laid eyes on her. Diana flashes a small smile, glad we agree on one thing. "Alfred would do anything for PJ and he misses you. He misses having a daughter around."

In an instant Diana's smile fades and she bites the inside of her cheek, shame on her face. I decide to change the topic. "What are you doing up?" I ask.

Diana shrugs her shoulders. "I couldn't sleep," is her vague answer. She looks around and lets out another sigh. "I shouldn't have come back," she whispers.

I shake my head. "No, you should've never left," I say before I can stop myself.

Diana's eyes narrow. It's a conversation the two of us have had over a dozen times, the last being the night she brought PJ back to me. "You know I had no choice," she says. Glad to know her stance on the topic hasn't changed.

"Bullshit," I mutter. "You left because you wanted to."

She lets out another sigh. "I never wanted to leave," she says in barely a whisper.

I want to argue. I want to understand why. After all these years I still don't know why she made the choice to leave, but seeing her standing there, quiet, shame in her eyes, I realize I may never get the answers I seek. "Don't forget to turn off the lights," is all I say as I turn on my heel and walk out of the kitchen, leaving Diana to think over if this was as bad of an idea as I think it is.

#WonderBat #BrucexDiana #bruceanddiana #Fanfiction #FanficFriday #BacktoYou #wonder woman x batman

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saultnpeppah · 2 years

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Back to You CH 4

Two Amazons in Gotham. What could go wrong?

Read Back to You CH 4 now: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14077571/4/Back-to-You

I continue to run down the dark corridor. My lungs feel like they are on fire as I try to reach the voice that has been calling to me. For weeks I've been hearing this voice, hearing the sound of a woman in pain. I don't know who she is, or how she knows my name, but it's a mystery I need to figure out before I go crazy.

The fire that burns along the walls looks angry. The flames reach the ceiling, but nothing looks like it's burning. It's almost like I'm inside the middle of a volcano that hasn't erupted.

"Penelope!"

There's the voice again, louder than the last time. I run out of the hall. My brain hurts when I see the snow covering the ground. A minute ago I could've sworn I was in the middle of a heated volcano, but now it looks like Gotham on Christmas night. It's very confusing.

"Hello?" I call out. "Is anyone out there?"

The wind picks up, pulling and pushing snow all around me, blinding me for the moment. It's only for a moment, but I am still in a new and scary place. When the wind ends and the snow falls back to the ground, I notice I am not alone.

A man stands a few feet away, his hands on his hips as he stares at me. His dark curly hair falls past his shoulders, falling in between the horns on his shoulders' armor. His eyes narrow as he strokes the dark pointed goatee on his face. His lips curl into an evil smile and a chill runs down my back, and it's not because of the snow. Something about this man seems familiar, like I should know who he is, but I can't put my finger on it.

The mysterious man takes a step toward me, then another, and another. He is only a few feet from me when I make the smart decision to turn and run. The man continues to walk toward me, each of his steps equaling three of mine. It'll be no time at all before he catches me, and I don't want to know what he'll do when he gets his hands on me.

I try to run faster, breathing so hard you can see it in the cold air. I take a chance and look back over my shoulder, my eyes widening when I see the man stop walking toward me. I stop, confused, and watch as he takes a deep breath, before he opens his mouth and exhales. A ball of fire flies from his mouth toward me.

I turn back and run as fast as my legs will take me. I can feel the heat of the fireball coming closer and closer, burning my skin.

I jump up from my bed and fall to the floor, which hurts my shoulder more than I thought. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and take a deep breath, getting up from the floor as I yawn and wipe a hand down my face. These dreams have been getting way too intense for my liking.

I slowly stand from my spot on the floor and walk toward my dresser, stopping at the long mirror by the window. I turn and notice something on my shoulder. Taking a closer step to the mirror, I take another look and see the red spot on my shoulder. It stings and I realize it's the same spot I would have been hit by the fireball in my dream.

"No way," I mumble, looking back at my bed. Something strange is definitely happening.

I walk back to my bed and grab the shining object near my pillow. It's the locket I found on Themyscira. I must have fallen asleep trying to open it again. I've had this thing for over seven months and still can't figure out how to get it opened. I try to pry it open it once more, fiddling with the small lock on the side, but again it doesn't open. Maybe it's busted. I'll have to sneak one of the hammers from the garage and bust it open later tonight. Until then, I have more work to do today.

I toss the locket into the drawer on my nightstand and quickly go to my dresser. Opening the bottom drawer I grab a pair of jeans, pull them out, and put them on. Opening the middle drawer, I pull out a thin tank top and switch it out for my pajama shirt, tossing the large t-shirt stolen from one of my brothers on my bed, before I walk to the closet and grab a thin sweater from the first hanger I see. When I glance over my shoulder, I look at the small clock on my nightstand. 07:10. Alfred will be up and getting ready to head downstairs so I need to get to his room before everyone else gets up.

I quickly rush out of the room and down the hall, turning the corner once, stopping at the last door on the left. I gently knock on the closed door. I only have to wait a few moments before it opens and Alfred steps into the hall, greeting me with a smile.

"Miss Penelope," he says, "an early greeting from the birthday girl."

I flash him a smile. "I wanted the present you promised," I joke, winking at him.

Alfred chuckles and nods. "I see, I see."

"I actually needed your knowledge in first aid," I say, turning my shoulder toward him so he can see the burn.

"Miss Penelope!" he exclaims, grabbing my arm and pulling me into his room. "What on earth did you do?"

I take a seat on the small stool I have spent many nights on, talking through the night, getting stories from Alfred of my parents. I watch as Alfred rushes off into his conjoined bathroom, pulling his jacket off and carefully laying it on the bed, before he gently rolls up his sleeves. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Alfred," I say when he comes back.

In his arms he carries a kit he's made throughout the years, his own supply of bandages and antiseptic from countless nights having to tend to my father and brothers. "Last week I gave your father stitches after he fought a man who travels through mirrors. Not to mention your mother is the Queen of a race of warriors on an island hidden to the world. I'm sure nothing you can say will stump me at this point." He places everything down on a tray and pulls it close to me.

"You got me there," I say as he walks back into the bathroom. I hear the sink turn on as he washes his hands, before he walks back into the room wearing a pair of white gloves. "I was having a dream, only it wasn't a dream," I explain. "There was this guy who could breathe fire, and I was running away from him, and I woke up with this. Like he was able to hurt me inside the dream.

Alfred nods as he steps beside me and begins to clean my shoulder. The cold water against my shoulder startles me, but it soothes my skin, which I'm happy for. "I see," Alfred says. He gently pats my shoulder dry. "And your powers?" he asks. "I'm assuming you still haven't told either of your parents that you have them?"

I shake my head, grateful he cannot see the blush spreading over my cheeks. Dad has made it very clear that he doesn't want me in the family business, at least the one that takes up most of their nights. Mom has never said it to my face, but I have overheard her tell Antiope a time or two that she was grateful I didn't have powers. She doesn't want me to have that responsibility. Alfred is the only one that knows I've inherited much more than my looks from Mom.

"That's one secret I would like to keep a bit longer," I say. "Besides, they have enough to worry about."

"Ah yes," Alfred says as he grabs a packet of burn cream and tears off the corner. "The plan." He gently spreads some of the cream on my shoulder. "I feel quite awful not being truthful with your mother."

He bandages my shoulder and I let out a sigh. "If she didn't want to come, she wouldn't have. You know Mom, she's stubborn."

Alfred laughs as he finishes the bandage. "Soon it won't matter. You saw that look Dad had when she walked in the room."

Alfred steps beside me and pulls off the gloves, tossing them into the trash before he fixes his sleeves. "You're all set," he says, fixing his face, forcing the frown to disappear. He picks his jacket up from the bed and pulls it on, making sure to fix the buttons before he turns to face me. His face, much more wrinkled than in the photos I've seen of Mom and Dad's wedding, still brightens up whenever Mom is mentioned. He loves her. Which is why I knew he was the perfect person to help me get Mom off the island and back to Gotham.

"Now, I do believe I have to get some breakfast started. After all, it is someone's birthday." He steps toward the small desk near the window and opens the top drawer, pulling a box out from inside. "Happy Birthday, Miss Penelope," he says as he hands me the box, a smile on his face.

I quickly open the box, my lips curling into a smile when I see the small book inside. I gently pull the book out, flipping through the first few pages. More photos to add to my collection. Alfred knows I love having these memories frozen in time. "Thank you," I say, putting the book back into the box and carefully closing the lid.

"You're welcome, Miss Penelope," he says.

He watches as I stand and carefully pull the sweater in my hands over my tank top. I walk out of the room, thanking Alfred once more, and walk down the hall into my room. Inside I place the box in my hands under the bed, scooting it closer to the wall so no one else will know it's there.

XXXXXXX

"How's your breakfast?"

Mom looks up from her nearly empty plate and gives Alfred a smile. "Delicious as always," she says to him as she places her fork on the plate and picks up her piece of toast. "I've truly missed your cooking."

Mom takes a bite of the toast and smiles once more. Alfred gives her a smile back. "I'm glad, Miss Diana," he says. He fills her empty glass with more orange juice and turns to me. "It's nice to have someone who truly appreciates a good meal."

Mom laughs as Alfred turns to me and gives me a smirk. I stick my tongue out at Alfred. He does the same and picks up my empty plate, taking it to the sink. Mom finishes the last of her toast and turns to me. "So what are your plans for today?" she asks.

I give her a shrug. She nods, her ponytail bouncing as she moves her head. She rubs her hands on her dark jeans and fixes her green shirt before she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I can see she's spent another night up and worrying. Her eyes are tired, which makes the small wrinkles around her eyes even more visible.

"I usually spend the day with Dad," I explain. "He usually takes the morning off until Antiope comes."

Mom nods and opens her eyes. "I see." She takes a drink from her glass and sets it back down on the table, glancing up at Alfred when the doorbell rings throughout the house. "Well if you have some time, maybe we can go to lunch or something?" she asks.

I nod. "I think I can make that work," I say with a wink. We both watch as Alfred walks out of the room at the sound of the doorbell ringing again. "I'm really happy you're here, though," I tell her, turning to face her. "I've missed you."

Mom gives me a big smile. "I've missed you too," she says. She pats my knee and moves a piece of my black hair back behind my ear.

"I wish we could all be together every year," I say. I watch as she sighs and shakes her head.

"I know, Penelope," she says. "But I don't think-"

"HAPPY BIRTH-DAY!"

The both of us turn to the kitchen door and see Tim standing there, a bag over his shoulder, a wrapped gift in his hand. My lips curl into a wide smile. Mom lets out a sigh of relief. Tim's entrance may have saved her this time, but I will be bringing it up again later.

"Tim!" I say, jumping from my stool and rushing to the door. I jump into his arms and give him a giant hug.

He hugs me back and says, "Sorry I couldn't make it last night."

I pull back from Tim and raise an eyebrow. "Trouble with the Titans?" I ask.

Tim waves off my question. Like Dad, he doesn't like to get me too involved in his alter ego's lifestyle. "Just trouble," he says with a shrug. He glances up and freezes when he sees Mom standing where she had been sitting seconds prior, leaning against the breakfast bar in silence. "Diana?" he asks.

Mom nods and gives him a small smile. She's worried about how he's going to react to seeing her. "Hi Tim," she says quietly.

"Are you back?" Tim asks, rushing up to Mom. He gives her a small hug and she returns it, the breath she's been holding coming out quietly.

"No, just here for a few days," she answers. Tim looks up at her and nods. It's almost like they're able to talk to each other silently, understanding what the silent look on each other's faces mean. "But I hear you're in San Francisco now?"

Tim nods. "Yeah. I love it," he says. Mom nods and leans back against the breakfast bar. "It's a long story that we'll have to discuss over coffee or something." Her arms cross over her chest as she watches Tim shrug. She gives him a small nod and exhales, glad to know he doesn't hate her as much as Damian seems to. That's one less person she has to be concerned about.

"I'd like that," Mom says to Tim.

He nods, giving her a small smile, before he turns to me. "Happy Birthday, PJ," he says as he hands me the wrapped gift, giving Mom a small glance from the corner of his eye. He doesn't think I see him, so I stay quiet as I rip open the paper and the box and pull out the device wrapped in bubble wrap.

I yank off the bubble wrap and let it fall to the floor, ignoring the look on Alfred's face as he rolls his eyes at yet another mess I've made. Tim's gift makes me smile as my fingers run along the edges. "You didn't!" I say, jumping up and down excitedly.

Tim only nods. "I figured you could use some technology on that primitive island," he says, turning to Mom. "No offense."

Mom only smiles. "None taken."

"I remember how you would steal my old Gameboy when you were little, and it would keep you quiet for hours."

"As I recall," Alfred chimes in, "you and Master Damian once used that little device to keep Miss Penelope quiet during a marathon of Star Wars."

Mom lets out a chuckle. Tim blushes and puts a finger to his lips, telling Alfred to be quiet. "Anyway," he says, turning to me. "I got you a few solar chargers and extra games." He digs into the duffle bag around his shoulder and pulls out another small bag, handing it to me. "We can get you some more games next time you're in town." In another six months is what he really means.

The two of us turn to Mom, who continues to stare at Tim, a smile on her lips. "Thank you, Tim," I say, giving him another small hug. "I'm going to put this upstairs," I say as I rush out of the kitchen.

I make my way to my room, putting the Gameboy on the bed as I reach under the bed and pull the suitcase I arrived with out from underneath. I carefully open the top and place the Gameboy as well as the other accessories into the suitcase, shoving it beside the set of custom arrowheads Jason bought from Roy, and the books Dick bought after telling him I was tired of reading nothing but ancient laws and history. The clothes Damian gifted me are neatly folded beside the books, cushioning the photo album Alfred gifted me this morning. I quickly close the suitcase and shove it back under my bed, before I rush back out of the room and down to the kitchen, stopping when I see Dad about to walk in.

"Morning," I say.

Dad looks over his shoulder and gives me a small smile. "Morning," he says. "Happy Birthday."

I give Dad a small nod and rush back into the kitchen, leaving the door open for him to follow. Inside Mom and Tim are talking, their voices coming down to a whisper before stopping all together as I walk up to the two. Tim gives Mom a nod and lets out a small sigh, before he looks up at Dad, watching as he walks into the room.

"Mornin' Bruce," he says.

Dad nods and tries not to yawn. He was out late last night, I can see it in his face. "Morning," is all he says as he walks further into the room. Alfred hands him a cup of coffee and Dad thanks him, taking a sip of the dark liquid.

Dad runs a hand through his thick hair as he shifts his eyes from Tim to Mom. He stares at her longer than necessary, looking her up and down, before he looks at me, his cheeks turning pink when he realizes he's been caught.

"You still want to go to the movies?" Dad asks me as he takes another sip of his coffee.

I nod. The biggest blockbuster of the Summer came out last weekend and Dad's been promising to take me for the last few days. He gives a small nod and looks over at Mom, his eyebrow raising as he decides whether he wants to be nice and invite her, or be selfish and take me alone. "Diana?" he finally says, asking the question with just her name.

Mom shakes her head. "No, you two go. I have something to do this morning," she says.

I watch as Dad nods and returns all his attention back to his coffee, trying to ignore the woman across the room. Tim looks between them and raises an eyebrow, asking me what the deal with the two of them are. I only shrug. "But now that everyone is in town, and we have some free time, I have an idea." Everyone turns to look at me. Alfred raises an eyebrow. Tim tilts his head as he stares at me. Mom and Dad glance over at each other before they turn their attention back to me. "So tomorrow, since Dad doesn't have any meetings, I say we go to the amusement park you've been teasing about for months."

Tim flashes a big smile and pulls out his phone, probably already telling Dick and Jason of the plan. I don't have to know Damian well enough to know he'll do anything as long as it gets his adrenaline rushing.

Dad takes another sip of his coffee and places the mug down on the counter, thinking hard about my suggestion. For weeks I've asked to go, and normally he would have cleared his schedule for a day out, but it never seemed right with just me and him. It seems like a much better idea now that the family can go - the whole family.

"We don't even know if the boys are free to go," Dad says. He's purposely trying to get out of spending time with all of us. He glances up at Mom again, before he pulls his phone out of his pants pocket. Correction: he's purposely trying to get out of spending time with Mom. Well it's not going to happen. I've only had them together once, and I won't let it go to waste.

Without skipping a beat Tim flashes his phone screen to Dad and says, "Jason and Dick are down." He turns the phone when it vibrates in his hand, looking down at the screen for a moment before he adds, "And Damian says he'll come if we invite Jon."

I nod and look at Dad, who is still trying to avoid answering the question. "See, everyone is all good to go. So can we go?"

He glances up at Mom one more time. She only shrugs and gives him a small nod, before he lets out a sigh. "Fine," he says, putting his phone back into his pocket. "We'll go tomorrow." He turns and grabs his coffee, gulping the last of the liquid that has gone cold, before he places the mug into the sink. He turns to me and says, "Now come on, we've got a movie to catch."

I nod and follow Dad out of the kitchen, giving Alfred a wink on my way out. He rolls his eyes at me and turns to clean the counter where Dad's coffee mug has left a small ring. I follow Dad out into the garage and into his car, hopping in the front seat with him. He climbs in behind the wheel and starts the car, waiting until my seatbelt is buckled over my chest before he starts to drive out of the garage and down the driveway, toward town.

As he drives through the streets of Gotham, still quiet for being a little after nine in the morning, he stays quiet. It's unusual for him. "Dad?" I ask as he turns the corner.

"Hmm," he says, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him.

"Does it bother you?" I ask.

His eyes don't leave the road as he answers me. "Does what bother me?"

"Mom being here."

He slows the car down as we approach a red light, stopping at the intersection. He turns to me and thinks for a moment, biting his bottom lip as he thinks about his answer. Finally he says, "It's complicated. I haven't seen your mother since you were a baby." He turns back to face the stoplight, watching the traffic as more cars make their way onto the road.

The light turns green and Dad hits the gas, turning the corner one more time. That wasn't an answer. And like he's said before, I am stubborn. "Why?" I ask. I am genuinely curious, as no one has given me the exact reasoning my parents split so long ago.

Dad's hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter and he lets out a sigh. I don't need him to answer it this time. The way his shoulders tense thinking about Mom tells me everything I need to know. Hopefully he can forgive her - I still have a few days to get him to that point.

"But she's still as beautiful as you remember, right?" I ask with a grin, choosing to ignore the last question I've asked.

Dad nods without thinking. His shoulders untense and his grip on the wheel loosens. "Of course," he admits. "She was always the most beautiful person in the room." He puts his hand on my head and pushes the same strand of hair behind my ear Mom had during breakfast.

One of the things I miss when I'm here in Gotham with Dad is being able to control my long hair. Mom usually helps me with it on the island, braiding it with such precision, even the most intense training exercises with Antiope can't mess it up. For years Dad would try, but it can't stand up to Mom's. Alfred even gave it a try, but his old hands aren't as flexible as they used to be. When I'm here, I usually end up doing it myself. Most of the time it ends up in a messy ponytail or pushed back with a hair band.

"That's where you get it from," Dad says, breaking my thoughts.

I give Dad a wide smile. "Did you ever think about her?" I ask, my questions starting back up. I'm going to get him to break, no matter how much he doesn't want to think about Mom.

Dad shrugs as he pulls into the parking lot of the theater. "I used to." I can tell he's lying. I've seen him on more than one occasion looking at that wedding photo he keeps hidden in the top drawer of his desk.

"Do you think you'll ever get back together?"

Dad pulls into a spot and turns the car off. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to me, his eyebrow raised in confusion. "What is with all the questions today?" I notice he doesn't answer the question.

I shrug and unbuckle myself. "Do you ever regret falling in love with her?"

Dad takes a moment to think of the question, his eyes reading my face as he thinks of his answer. After a moment he says, "No" and shakes his head. "Because she gave me you, and that's more than I could ever ask for." He leans over and kisses my forehead, before he pokes my cheek with his finger. "Now that's enough questions."

He opens his car door and steps out and I do the same. We both close our doors and Dad locks the car, before he walks up and places his hand on my uninjured shoulder. We quickly walk to the theater, getting to our seats just in time to catch the beginning previews.

XXXXXX

May 19th. Wayne Enterprises. 12:34

I sit behind Dad's desk in his big computer chair, twirling around and around until I get dizzy. After our movie, Dad had received a call about an emergency meeting. After he apologized about a dozen times, he had called Alfred to come pick me up from his work since he didn't know how long it would take. When Dad had sat me in his office, promising me he'd be home in time for dinner, I took the liberty and called Alfred myself, rearranging my pick up. After all, Mom had said she would like to get lunch, and now that my day had opened up, it was the perfect chance to tell her all about the last six months.

There's a knock on the door and I spin the chair to face the front of Dad's office. "Come in," I call. I place my hands on the desk, ready to strike a deal to whoever is on the other side.

Mom pokes her head inside and lets out a small sigh when she notices Dad is nowhere to be found. "Where's your father?" she asks as she steps into the office and closes the door behind her.

"In a meeting," I say. I spin the chair once more before I hop off it. My legs wobble as my head spins. I now realize that I have spun one too many times. My hand holds the edge of Dad's desk as I regain my balance. When I'm all set, I look up to see Mom shaking her head, a small smile on her face.

"You're just like your brother," she says softly.

I run a hand through my hair, huffing as I realize most of the ponytail has fallen out. "Which one?" I ask as I yank the rubber band out, leaving my wavy hair to fall to the middle of my back.

"All of them," she says. She walks up to where I stand and places a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to stop meddling with my hair. Without a word she gently rakes her fingers through my hair, separates a section toward the front and braids it. When she's done she pulls it into a ponytail, keeping the hair neatly out of my face. "It's not perfect, but it'll do," she says as she admires her quick work.

I look at her handiwork in the mirror to the left of me, a smile on my face. Oh how I've missed not being the only girl in a place. "It's wonderful," I say. "I've missed this."

Mom lets out a chuckle as she turns to the mirror and pulls half of her hair from her face and braids it, letting it fall gently to the back of her head unsecured. Not that it matters. Mom could be bald and still look as beautiful as ever.

"You and your father both have unruly hair," she comments. "If only you could see what it was like those nights he fell asleep at his computer after long nights patrolling."

She lets out a laugh as she thinks back. The memory must be a good one because the smile doesn't leave her face. "But he's still very handsome," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. If Dad won't break, maybe Mom will and admit she still has feelings for Dad.

Mom raises an eyebrow. She's not as easily persuaded as Dad, but she also won't lie. "Yes. He is." She shakes her head free of the memories and clears her throat. "Does Valentina's still have the best pizza in Gotham?" she asks, changing the subject.

I nod. Valentina's is the only place my family has been getting pizza from for years. One time Damian bought pizza from a competing restaurant and was shunned by Tim for a week. He never made that mistake again.

Mom scribbles out a note on one of the pads of sticky notes on Dad's desk, letting him know she picked me up in case Alfred hasn't gotten ahold of him yet. She attaches the note to the edge of his computer, her eyes linger on the photo of all of us kids in the corner of the desk, before she turns to me and gives me a small smile. The two of us make our way out of the office and down the hall to the elevators, riding down in silence. We make our way out of the building and down the street, our eyes set on the small restaurant on the corner. It isn't long before we're sitting outside, a pizza set in between us as we talk about the last six months.

I tell Mom about Dick and his promotion at work. She nods, as if she already knows this. I then let her know about Jason and Tim. I tell her about Damian, but I don't linger on his treatment of me. I know Mom would not be too thrilled to know how awful he is. I tell Mom about Alfred and how sassy he has become in his old age. That gets a laugh from Mom as she tells me Alfred has always been sassy. I tell Mom about Thanksgiving, when Uncle Clark decided to deep fry a turkey much to Alfred's dismay. I tell her about Christmas and the snowstorm that Gotham had, leading to the city being closed for three days. I tell her about the Valentine's date Damian went on that ended in disaster. I then tell Mom about Dad and how wonderful the last few months have been. She smiles but I can see the hurt in her eyes. It's not that I don't love spending time on the island, I do. I love being there with Mom, Antiope, and all the Amazons. But I also love spending time with Dad and my brothers, and Alfred, and kids my own age. More often than not I wish I didn't have to split my time with them.

"Sounds like you had a wonderful time," she says as she wipes her hands with a napkin.

I nod and take another bite from the slice of pizza that has cooled in my hands. It was a wonderful time, but something was missing. Something is always missing. I open my mouth to make a comment when a camera flash goes off beside us.

"OH MY GOD!" someone yells. Both Mom and I turn to see a group of women standing beside us, their phones out recording and taking pictures of us.

Mom hooks the leg of my chair with her foot and pulls, dragging me back behind her, her instinct to protect me on full display. Dad does the same thing whenever we are out and someone with a camera comes toward us. He says he doesn't want me to have to live my life in front of everyone, but I know the real reason. He's afraid of someone finding out who he is, who he truly is, and having access to me. Mom has lived on the island for so long she has forgotten that fear, but now that it is happening before her eyes, she jumps into protective mode without hesitation.

"Is that Wonder Woman?" one of the women asks as she snaps a picture of Mom.

"It is!" another exclaims. "And she's here with her daughter."

"PJ," one of the women in the back says, "what are you two discussing."

Mom glances at the woman and gives her a smile. To the untrained eye it may seem like a genuine smile, but I know what it actually means. Leave my daughter alone or you'll answer to me.

"Hello," Mom says. Everyone's attention turns to her. The blonde woman in the front snaps a photo of Mom and gives her a timid smile.

"Wonder Woman. Diana. Hi," she says. "You're back in Gotham!"

Mom nods. "I am," she states. "And I appreciate your enthusiasm, but my daughter is a little too young to be plastered all over the internet, so can we please put the phones away?"

The women all glance up from their phones and look my way, their eyes widening when they see me sitting behind Mom with a scared look on my face. I may have grown up the daughter of Wonder Woman and billionaire Bruce Wayne, but they still did everything in their power to keep me shielded. The women all nod and shove their phones into their purses. Mom gives another nod, a thanks for listening to her, and gives them another smile. My shoulders, which ache from how tense they have become, relax as I let out a small sigh of relief. Even after a decade away, some people still respect Mom's wishes.

"Diana?" The woman in front says. "You're back in Gotham. Does that mean Wonder Woman is back for good?"

Mom opens her mouth to answer when another question is said. "Does that mean you and Bruce are getting back together?"

Everyone falls silent as they await Mom's answer. She gives a nervous chuckle and shakes her head. "No," she states. "Bruce and I aren't getting back together."

All four of the women pout as their hopes are crushed. Alfred used to tell me stories of my father and of the women he used to date before Mom. He told me when the two of them got together, and married, half of the women in Gotham were sad to know they would never have a chance with him. But that all changed when they realized how much of a difference having Mom in Gotham made to the city. She pushed for Dad to make Gotham a better place, helped his company, even went as far as volunteering her own limited time to help the business in the city recover from years of crime. The people of Gotham trusted her. When Mom left, however, everyone in Gotham was saddened by her departure. Everyone who had witnessed their love was devastated that they of all people couldn't make it last.

As I watch the women say their goodbyes, waving to Mom as they walk down the street, gossiping amongst themselves, I smile to myself. No, Mom and Dad weren't getting back together - at least not yet.

#WonderBat #BrucexDiana #FanfictionFriday #BacktoYou

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