a/n: Thanks guys
next post a bit much longer. Strange end to it, perhaps, but trying to lighten up the mood at the end. Too much dark and broody even I'll not be able to take it. Enjoy!
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Chapter 8
2041:
Terry did not understand why the old man was still being such a jerk. This was unschway. Way, way, way not cool. This was Wonder Woman they were talking about. He’d watch her save the world again and again along with Superman and the rest of League on the news since he was Matt’s age. Alright, that was corny, and didn’t hold up very well. But besides that, if the history cubes were any indication, Bruce had definitely worked with her more than just a few times. No record of her going rogue either, a clean slate if only for a few embarrassing incidents in downtown Metropolis. He’d sent a message to the League, and they had confirmed the mission she had been sent out for. So he’d done his homework, which if anything had only improved his opinion of the founding member.
The second time Wonder Woman had come round the cave, she had been treated with the same business like coldness that Bruce so masterfully wielded. The kind that would make even Derek Powers cringe, if he were still around to cringe, that is. Terry wondered if glowing radioactive skulls could somehow visibly cringe. If Bruce had anything to say about it, no doubt he’d mention something along the lines of how it wasn’t just the face which conveyed emotion. Pfft, yeah, you didn’t have to tell Terry that. Bruce was a living practice session.
Bruce thought him naive, still hero worshipping, not understanding the dangers these Metahumans possessed. The old man was just covering for something he felt deeper for this Wonder Woman, a thought which had seemed so funny at the time. The Dark Knight and the shining Princess wandering past the horizon into the sunset? It was horribly romantic film-like. Besides, Bruce was one to talk. The man had barely been suspicious when Talia had turned up out of the blue, even though Terry had known first off that something was amiss. Alright, so he’d made the mistake of blindly walking into the Starro-controlled Superman’s sphere of influence, but frankly if the creature had thrown the scent off itself for so long to even long standing Justice League members, he had reason to be excused. This, this was different. Something about Wonder Woman made you trust her, made you like her, and sure, alright, maybe he was a little overwhelmed on seeing her.
He didn’t like whatever was eating at Bruce. Fact. Sure, the man had his mood swings every now and again, and wasn’t entirely the best conversationalist in the world, but Terry swore the temperature of the cave had dipped drastically since Wonder Woman’s first appearance, and it didn’t have anything to do with central heating. “Bruce, what’s going on with you...” Terry muttered vaguely at the netbook sitting in his lap, then turned his eyes blearily towards the screen. No chance of any more cramming for History tonight. Potts was going to kill tomorrow, she and her pop quizzes. He didn’t even have a clear conscience about having to go on patrol.
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“Mister McGinnis, if you would care to grace us with your conscious presence,” the voice rang out over his ears. Oh no, not again. This was the third time he’d been caught dozing off in class. “As much as you would like to believe, I assure you that information does not readily enter your brain via osmosis when you use your keyboard as a pillow,” Mrs Potts continued, to the snickers of the class.
“Sorry ma’am,” Terry mumbled, rubbing at the corner of his eyes.
“Psst, Terry,” Max whispered off to the side.
“What?” he whispered back, keeping his eyes to the front of the class in case Potts were to find another reason to berate him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Pay attention Miss Smarts.” He gave her a small grin. Max wasn’t convinced, turning to Dana instead. The girl was casting worried glances in Terry’s direction as well. Terry’s late nights sans Dana were the cause of it. Terry had said no to telling her the truth about his night time activities, had warned Max countless times, then had tried to throw himself as fully into his studies as he could on top of everything. It worked for the first term since their final year had started, and teachers had been very pleased with his improvement. The signs of burn out, however, were once again showing themselves.
“You need sleep, McGinnis,” she said later as they were in the cafeteria queue.
Terry stifled a yawn. “Max, who sleeps anymore?” He made a mental note to thank Bruce again for the line he was constantly using to evade the concerns of his friend.
“Normal people do, Terry. Besides, Dana’s worried.”
“Dana,” Terry said, brow creasing as he looked over to the table she was sitting at. “Dana’s always worried.”
Max butted his shoulder, “I’m worried too, Terry. Listen, what happened last year was freaky enough.”
“Would you lay off about that? It’s over, alright. Done with. I dealt with it, and the old man approved... kinda.”
“But things haven’t been too noisy lately, what’ve you got going on that needs so much of your nights now?” They were just about the approach the table, and Max’s voice had gone into a harsh stage whisper. Circumstances considered, it rather grated on Terry’s ears.
He lowered his own voice, “Max, there are things I have to do, and I can’t tell you everything. I’m not in danger. You have to trust me on that.” After which he plastered on a grin and sat in close beside Dana.
“Who trusts anymore?” Max half wondered to herself.
--
“There’s going to be some sort of trade at the docks in an hour, there might be a link there,” Bruce spoke into the communicator.
“Got it. Will stake out. Later,” Terry said as he fought off a pair of Ts. There was something fishy going on here. They had not been going for their usual random mugging attacks, trying to break open into one of Foxteca Labs. That meant some mastermind was behind the scenes, again. Organised crime, it got so tedious after a while.
“Hey, what’s Foxteca got right now that’s hot on the market?”
“Why?”
“Bunch of Ts here decided they would want to break into it. I doubt they’re just trying to get in out of the cold.”
“I’ll look into it. You check the docks.” Bruce said, then after a short pause added, “Be careful.” Terry heard the slight buzz as Bruce switched off the communicator in his end. There was a huge possibility that this might link back to Huang Holdings. Terry considered this as he tied up the goons up for the police to find, then set off towards Gotham Harbour.
In the mean time, Bruce was looking through Foxteca’s inventory. The latest projects and developments he had in a stockholder’s file, and there was barely anything there that might attract the criminal. He set the programme to try combinations of machine components into any sort of artillery or generator, then leaned back as the calculations flooded the screen. It would take some time. There was a shift in the air around him and he tilted his head slightly to the side.
“It’s impolite to enter unannounced, Princess,” he said to the gloom. Diana landed just behind his chair.
“You should improve your security if you wish to keep people out,” she responded evenly.
“Terry’s about to check up on a lead we have with the case. If you would like to stay on to see what he has to find, you’re more than welcome,” Bruce said, still facing the computer screen. “Hopefully this will quell your current desire to commit multiple break-ins on my property-“
His chair was swung around and he found himself locked between the chair and two arms, each placed securely on either armrest. “I would ring the doorbell,” Diana said, looking down over him, “only you wouldn’t answer.” Ah, smart girl. Bruce felt a smirk tugging at his lips and tried to suppress it immediately. The sparkle in Diana’s eyes didn’t fade though, still as patient as ever, perhaps more so now that she knew she had got to him. As it was, he had managed to keep his impassive expression, only his focus must have been lost as those blue irises seemed to flood his vision. Lighting in the cave, never was sufficient. He huffed inwardly.
“What happened to you, Bruce?” Diana questioned. There it was again. That vitality, that youth. If she had aged as he did, felt the finality of death as he so often did, felt his strength leave him year by year, she wouldn’t have asked that.
“Can’t you tell? Age happened, Diana.”
“Is that what you’ve been telling people?” she queried, arching an eyebrow as she did so. “You know I find that hard to believe. You left before 2009, and you only joined the fight because Gotham was the centre of it. What happened? You even cut ties with your two wards.” Bruce heard the unsaid ‘you cut ties with me before that’ in her voice. Questions, coming back to him again. He felt weary. He wanted to tell her Gotham needed him, but he had, and she hadn’t bought it, and he wanted to tell her about the Joker, but if he were to see those eyes soften with even the smallest amount of sympathy towards him, any remaining self respect would crumble to dust.
“You ask a lot of questions,” he settled for saying. Diana still had yet to lift her hands from the chair.
“What can I say? I’m a curious person.”
Bruce thought to mention that curiosity killed the cat, which led to thoughts of another woman. He really should stop looking through those image banks in his computer. This was payback from the gods, right? If they existed, that was. To have all his old flames suddenly ignite around him after so long. Quite literally, in some cases, and his mind harked back to ‘Talia’. Bruce felt the inane urge to wash his mouth out, but as no soap was readily available, could only cringe.
“You know the answer to all your questions already. I’ve no need to repeat myself,” he replied, but the words sounded unconvincing even to him. Diana was smiling. She was always so radiant when she smiled. A goddess, shining bright like the moon that used to greet him from Gotham’s rooftops. She was an ideal, a perfect, unreachable fantasy. And she would always be that way, even as he aged further into the decrepit old man that he was. It was... unnatural.
“You make me sick,” he managed, and watched as those lips wavered, as one arm retreated from the chair. No, not like that, he hadn’t meant... Bruce reached out and clasped his hands around the silver bracelet. “What I mean to say is, you make me feel like a sick old man. I’m not the person I once was, Diana.” He could never watch her unhappy, that much he knew. It was why he constantly refused to look at her on her recent visits to the cave. Now the smile was back in full force, and Bruce felt a crushing weight lifted from him. She always managed to surprise him, and this time was no different.
“Oh Bruce, I’ve missed you.”
How could anyone be so forgiving? And why was he falling again? He could feel it. After Selina, after Barbara, fast forward into this era and after Talia, which he cringed at remembering, here he was again. Perhaps it was his weakness, this attraction to boundless energy and veracity, his Achilles heel as it were. Sure, if he were to be like the Greek legends of old, Odysseus perhaps, all this would be warranted, even encouraged by the gods. Anything for the entertainment of thousands for centuries to come. As Bruce Wayne he had played his part, but after the Vreeland incident and his withdrawal from the world at large, it went quickly from dashing young knight to Dracula on the hill. Media, such fickle folk. He supposed he shouldn’t criticise them, he was after all, very much the same at times.
No, no this wasn’t falling into any sort of quicksand fluttering of the heart. This was simply what he had felt when he first saw her tear apart those Martian ships. Her charm was infectious, everyone on the League fell under it, and he was merely exposed to this sudden influx of contemplation at being in contact with her again after so long. No doubt the same had happened when ‘Talia’ appeared a year ago, and no doubt would happen again if Selina were to walk through those doors. Perfectly normal. Yes, the supposed gods were definitely having a laugh at his expense. Diana was still looking at him, and Bruce felt distinctly uncomfortable under that gaze. Why did she still look like she was about to cry?
“Would you like some soup?” He said before being engulfed by the arms of a very emotional Princess. He coughed.
Girls.
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