Chapter Text
It was a rather quiet, private affair. The last time getting ready without a man having declared his intention of making her his wife. Secretly, she had thought there would be more. She thought she would feel more excited about the prospect of getting married, of settling down, but right now, all she wished for was to be able to talk to her mother, just once. Just to ask her if she was doing the right thing. If this was really what she was destined for. The path her parents have graved into the ground the very moment she took her first breath and saw the world’s light shine around her.
Must have been the nerves, it wasn’t every day she received a marriage proposal after all. Not that it had never happened before, but up to this point, she had never even considered accepting the proposal. Now, things were different. Now she was expected to say yes.
Her eyes shifted, starring into the mirror, yet somewhat looking past it, as though the reflection was a stranger she had trained herself her entire life to impersonate.
Her silky dark oak hair was carefully twisted and pinned to create a neat and refined bun at the nape of her neck, giving a smooth and polished look. Her makeup was immaculate as always, the kind of perfection that looked almost untouchable a courtesy of strict routine which she came to benefit from now.
Allowing her cold hands to wander over the front of her dress once more, to erase all those invisible wrinkles and to get her nerves under control, she glanced at the glass of champagne sitting on the dressing table in front of her, couldn’t stop her eyes from following the condensation slowly sliding down the crystal stem.
She doesn’t drink and even though her friends have assured her that a glass of champagne would sooth her before her big moment, she wouldn’t start now either. Ignoring the glass, her eyes drifted to the newest issue of the local newspaper.
Gotham’s princess Bryce Wayne, a vision of poise and elegance at just twenty soon to be married to district attorney Harvey Dent.
She wondered if they weren’t a bit quick with their headline. She had yet to receive such an offer after all, even though half of Gotham seemed to be sure it would happen that night, rather than any other night. Why that was the case was beyond Bryce’s knowledge.
The Gotham Gazette lay in front of her, her perfectly polished nails scratching over the picture of her parents. Every time they spoke of her, they consequently spoke about her parents and the horrors which made her an orphan too. They spoke about her life, about her persona as if they knew her.
All those news outlets were speculating about this evening. About the size of the diamond, about the ring itself, if he will kneel before her and what type of cake will be served at the wedding. The only thing they all seemed to agree upon was her answer to his proposal.
No one doubt for even a second that she would say yes, and she did understand why.
Marrying Harvey Dent was just logical. They were a match coming right from a fairytale after all. Bryce Wayne, the princess of Gotham and Harvey Dent chief prosector of Gotham, their beloved white knight. And which princess does not want a white knight to safe her?
Maybe the one, that was a knight in disguise herself?
He was one of the most prestigious public prosecutors from a good family, but even more important to her, Harvey was a good man. A righteous man with the will and hope to make Gotham a better place. He wasn’t just the logical choice for her, he was the right choice. Idealistic, brilliant, perfect Harvey.
She was sure her parents would be happy with her choice and that in and on itself was an achievement. Bryce was rarely ever sure what her parents would think about her decisions, about the way she had decided to live her life. But they always liked Harvey, even as they were still children.
The wait was uncomfortable. Dreadful even, maybe. She wasn’t sure. It felt like the silence before a storm. The wind was already picking up, now she was waiting for the tale telling rain, the first drops that announced something bigger.
If every woman felt quiet like this before being proposed to?
“The dress is well chosen for the occasion, Miss Bryce.” Alfred said from behind her, which had her glance through the mirror of her dressing table at him. Bryce knew what he was doing, his attempt to calm her nerves easy for her to detect.
“Nothing to be seen?” She wondered, even though she knew that the fabric of the dress was hiding each and every bruise, scar, acid burn, bullet wound and cut. Her back was mostly covered and so was her right arm from her shoulder to her wrist. Everything that needed to stay out of sight, was well hidden.
“Not a single scratch.” Alfred assured her almost easily, which had Bryce swallow thickly.
“Thank you.” She told the man, who had raised her, softly, as he approached with a jewellery box. Only opening it once he stood right next to her and she had turned to look up at him, before focusing on the box.
“Your mother wore this necklace as your father proposed to her. I found it fitting, even though they were older than you, as they got engaged.” He told the young Wayne heiress uncharacteristically soft, his usually British charm nowhere to be found, marking the heaviness of the moment.
“Is it not quite presumptuous to expect a proposal in the first place, Alfred?” She wondered, the delicate, flawless diamond necklace glinted faintly in the low lamplight as she reached inside and freed it from its confinement.
Alfred closed the now-empty box with a soft click, before taking a step back. “There is no reason to be nervous about tonight or expect any less… not if this is what you truly want.”
Bryce lips curled in a faint smile as she put the necklace on, before letting her hands fall away only to look at herself in the mirror. The faint smile playing around her lips, it never reached her eyes. Maybe she didn’t know what she wanted after all.
“I don’t even know if Harvey will ask me tonight. Maybe all of Gotham is just wrongly informed.” She offered. Whispers aren’t always correct. Maybe Harvey had picked up another piece of jewellery personally at the same jeweller where his own father had bought the engagement ring with which he had proposed to Harvey’s mother. All could be.
“You sound as if you would prefer it.” He pointed out and Bryce exhaled softly, lowering her gaze.
She did not want to receive another lecture about following her parents’ footsteps being wrong when she only did it, for she believed she must. Another lecture about not stepping into the life she thought she was raised for just because that would have been the life she would have lived if her parents would have survived that fateful night.
“Do you think I should say no?” Bryce asked him and Alfred’s expression was careful, but his eyes held that quiet, paternal worry she had known all her life.
“I think…” He dared to say, even though he rarely shared his opinion open. Normally he preferred to wrap them in dry sarcasm and funny mockery. “…you are still so very young. You could leave Gotham again for a time. Travel some more. See the world for yourself. Live a little. Gotham will always wait for you. And if Mister Dent really loves you, he will wait for your return.”
“I can do all that with my husband too.” Bryce answered him while she took the glass of champagne to give her hands something to do, twirling it idly between her fingers. Even though she knew that should she marry Harvey, they would never leave Gotham. Neither of them would manage to, for this was their home and their home needed them to make it a better place for future generations.
“Very well, Miss Wayne.” Alfred inclined his head slightly. “I will keep the car ready for whenever you are.” As he turned to leave, his glance lingered on her in the mirror for another moment, just long enough for him to notice the uncertainty in her olive-green eyes.
Alfred had once told her that he worried that nothing in her life was ever really about her. Bryce hadn’t understood what he meant by saying that back as he told her for the very first time, for she had been born with a role to play and the mere thought of doing something just because she wanted to, felt foreign and wrong.
Bryce was the last Wayne, the princess of Gotham. People had expectations she felt she needed to fulfil, for her parents. For it was her task as their daughter to make them proud, to be the very person they have imagined her to become. She would marry Harvey Dent not only but also because doing that will honour the life her parents would have wanted for her. She had learned to want that life a long time ago. But even if she would agree to get married, for she thought her parents would have wanted her too, it was still her who had chosen Harvey.
Just like that Bryce Wayne was alone with her reflection once more. The city glimmered in the window behind her, as she reached down for the end of the floaty fabric that made up the skirt of the dress. Hitching it up her knee and past her tights, Bryce let the fabric pool around her hips, while her fingers glide over the soft and milky white skin on the inside of her upper thigh until she felt the ugly raised skin there.
For a moment, she wanted to withdraw, removing her own touch, not because it still hurt, but because of the weight that scar held. The claim that had been laid upon her. The sick satisfaction it had brought the clown as he did it, as he looked down at his work, grinning and oh so proud. She still remembered his words, his sick and twisted vows to her. Bryce wanted the scar to mean nothing, to be erased from her mind and her skin, but she forced herself to let her fingers wander along the healed cutting scar. Drawing the shape of a ‘J’.
Maybe the time Gotham no longer needed to Bat would never come. Maybe she belonged to the city in a way she can never belong to anyone else and maybe it had been Joker in his sick obsession with her, who had made her realise that. But Bryce was also her parents’ daughter, and she owned it to them to try to be something else too, something they can be proud of.
It was time to let go of the illusion that she could ever make a change as a masked crusader. Break the circle of endless violence she had become part of. And take charge of crime fighting as one of the leading faces of Gotham’s society. From now on, her husband would do the fighting for both of them. That was how it was supposed to be.
The waiting nearly killed her, but there was nothing else to do then to step into a pair of golden stilettoes and make sure not a single lock of hair was out of place. She stared at herself for a moment longer, then reached for her clutch.
A winter’s breath lingered in the air, but the heat lamps along the wrought-iron railing threw a soft amber glow across the intimate terrace. From here, Gotham’s skyline was a scattered crown of light, the water below reflecting every fractured light. The setting was romantic and chosen with intent Bryce had deciphered the moment they stepped onto the terrace. It would happen that night, she just knew. Maybe Gotham was right after all.
A small jazz trio played inside, the muted note drifting through the open French doors. The world felt… suspended in those moments. Sitting opposite each other, Bryce posture was graceful but relaxed, one hand lazily draped over the table between them, her fingers held by Harvey’s while her other hand lay loosely in her lap. Her fingers curled together tightly forcing her nails into her skin, leaving behind half-moons.
The table between them was dressed in white linen, candles flickering, the remains of a rich meal cleared away which had Harvey lean forward slightly, his eyes locked on hers. The candlelight caught in his smile, the kind of smiled that disarmed, that made one feel like they were the only person in the room.
“You’ve been quiet tonight.” Harvey pointed out gently. “I hope everything is alright.”
“Just…enjoying it.” Bryce answered him with an easy smile.
“Enjoying me?” He challenged teasingly.
Bryce smirked faintly, before tilting her head. Please ask me. Give me a reason to stop. Please don’t. I am more the Bat than I am this woman.
“You are…” The Wayne heiress tilted her head as if she had to think about it, her eyes cast upwards toward the sky, before letting her gaze settle on him again. “…tolerable.” She finally found a satisfying word, amused at his expense, as he huffed in pretended annoyance, before something else crossed his expression. Mischief.
“What a unique honour. I shall tell the whole world that Bryce Wayne thinks of me as tolerable. How long is that list? Alfred and me?” Harvey told her, smiling brightly as he teased her, only to receive a look of disapproval.
“I’m just joking.” He assured her with a light laugh. “I know that Gordon’s on that list too.”
“Harvey…” Bryce began, not wanting to be getting teased anymore.
“Just trying to loosen your shoulders a bit. I’m not pretending that I don’t know that you have figured out by now what this evening is about. But there is no reason for you to be nervous. If I understood correctly how such things work, and I think I did, I should be the one nervous.” He went on, before squeezing her hand softly, which caused Bryce to reach for her glass with her free hand, letting out a shuttering breath into her glass before taking a sip to sooth her nerves.
“How about neither of us being nervous, hm?” Harvey offered after another moment in which he had watched her take a sip and then place the glass back down. “I want you to be fond of this memory.” He added softly, causing Bryce to look up to meet his gaze.
“Do you remember sneaking me into the old courthouse?” Bryce wondered, another memory of which she was more than just fond. For between them, it was the beginning of something more. Something deeper than the already existing friendship.
“I nearly lost my job that day. You said you wanted to ‘see justice being made’ and I never managed to deny you anything.” Harvey remembered, laughing at the memory.
“You pulled me behind a column after you won your case and kissed me for the first time.” Bryce reminded him, which had Harvey nod, before pulling on his tie slightly.
“Looking back at it now, a bold move. The chances that you would punch me in the face and call for Alfred were high. But I had such a crush on you, I couldn’t help myself.” He admitted, while Bryce bit the inside of her cheek for a moment.
“Well, you didn’t waste your opportunity.” She smiled slightly.
“That I did not.” He muttered. “I think we make a good team, Bryce. You make me a better man, my love. And I would like to make it official.” He announced.
Bryce’ brow furrowed slightly in curiosity, wondering if this was the moment, if it would happen now and then he was standing and she knew, it was, for he pulled his chair back and before she could fully process it, he was in front of her kneeling, which had Bryce swallow thickly. The world narrowed to only him, to the small velvet box in his hands, to the way his voice softened just for her.
“Bryce Wayne. Will you marry me?” He asked earnestly, eyes honest and a smile he did not want to allow himself just yet but just couldn’t manage to hide.
Her stomach dropped and her heart began to speed up. Seemed like she had missed the wind picking up and ended in the storm right away.
Harvey was perfect. He was all she could ever have asked for. The perfect husband for one Bryce Wayne. One of the most loyal friends she ever had. Idealistic, brilliant, perfect Harvey Dent. Everyone knew that, everyone has been speculating about this for months.
In the end it took only a heartbeat since every news outlet was so sure about her answer after all. A bright but controlled smile bloomed on her face. She would need to take a moment to process all of this once she was home, but for now, things were still rolling.
“Yes.” She answered him. The words felt light, automatic almost. Almost too easily said when one considered what they meant. But it made his entire face brighter and, in that moment, Bryce knew that she had made the right decision. The decision her parents would be proud of.
Harvey rose, slipping the ring on her finger. And then suddenly everything slowed down. It was as if she was watching the world around her in slow motion, her ears ringing.
He pressed his lips to hers and Bryce couldn’t answer the question if she had kissed him back, to save her life. In that moment, she guessed she was shocked. Shocked by what she just did, or shocked by finally having been asked the one question every woman is secretly waiting for, she wouldn’t want to answer that question. Or any questions for that matter. She barely registered as Harvey pulled her in one of those half-hugs and held her close to him.
“I adore you. You are radiant.” He had whispered in her ear with so much devotion, it caused her to swallow thickly. Bryce just knew that she smiled, she always smiled one of those bright but sweet smiles that never really reached her eyes when surrounded by strangers, who clearly knew who she was.
Feeling her heart gradually slow to match the pace of the world around her, Bryce wondered if maybe it would slow to a stop soon. If she would die now, that she had to bury the Bat.
The cool crystal of a champagne flute was pushed into her hand next, even though Harvey knew she didn’t drink, the only thing she could say for sure, for she had felt the damp coldness, the only thing she felt for her body was numb and her heart was beating so loudly in her ears, rushing with adrenaline the Wayne heiress couldn’t hear a thing, but she wasn’t sure if anyone talked to her in that moment anyway, other than congratulating her.
Suddenly everything moved as if someone had hit the fast forward button and the world came back to life. There was laughter, applause, the flare of camera flashes burst around them from the other diners, phones catching the moment from every angle. It was quickly becoming too much, but no one in Gotham cared. They all wanted a picture of the newly engaged couple. A picture of the princess of Gotham finally tying the knot, despite only being twenty years old. A picture of the soon to be blushing bride.
Bryce hated it.
She wanted to get out of there, but instead she kept smiling and endured what she knew would never end until the day she died. This is what it also meant to be a Wayne. Bryce Wayne stood in the middle of it all, as she was supposed to. This was her life, her real life no matter how often she had to remind herself that Bryce Wayne was the real person and the Bat was only the mask.
Watching the flashes bloom like pale firework, she imagined that tomorrow’s issue of every news outlet in Gotham that covered their engagement would surely sell out quickly. She considered ironically that this one picture of them alone might boost Gotham’s economy for a while. Bryce was doing what her city needed her to do.
Mother, Father. Are you proud of me now?
Harvey was the right one. She would do this with him, or with no one at all. Bryce just wondered if all of this was happening a bit too fast after all.
“I’m so happy.” Harvey muttered into her ear. Laughter, warmth, a glass raised in toast.
“Me too.” She replied, a bit too easy, but her fiancé didn’t notice, his arms tightened around her waist as he pulled her closer and Bryce smiled for the cameras. She will get used to it. It was for the greater good and with Harvey she could make this work. Could give Gotham a new beginning.
It seemed like the storm finally hit the entire city. It was raining, but it rained often in Gotham, this was something more, something heavier and normally even she would take cover somewhere, just like her usual villains, but the meeting had to happen tonight, for she wasn’t sure if she would still stand by her decision, would still honour the promise she had made to her dead parents once the sun rose over Gotham and brought a new dawn.
Bryce Wayne, wrapped in black armour, cowl in place, easily slipped into the background for the Bat to take over. She had crouched down on the ledge of a crumbling gargoyle, spitting water at the city below. Her cape stirred in the wind like a shadow with its own mind.
“Kal-El. Last son of Krypton, I’m calling you.” Bryce spoke as loud she dared without feeling ridiculous. She was sure he would hear her over the storm, he always did.
Shortly after they met for the first time, well shortly after they got used to each other which was quite a while after they had met two years ago, he had told her to just scream ‘Superman’ very loudly should she ever need him, only for her to scoff and tell him that she will never do that.
She was the Bat of Gotham, not one of his groupies after all. And Bryce certainly did not need Superman to handle her problems for her. Superman on the other hand, had just laughed, one of his blindingly bright smiles accompanying it, before telling her that he would love to help her and that it would be no issue. It would be an issue, for Bryce. Gotham was her city of doom. They didn’t do good with people in bright spandex flying overhead.
Letting the ghost of a smile bloom on her lips, she realised how nostalgic that memory made her feel now, years after. Now that Kal had understood that she meant it as she told him that Gotham was off limits for him and everyone else in the League.
As the air shifted, she didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. She could feel him before she heard the soft landing, announcing his arrival. Somewhere between her rooftops and his sky, they’ve build a habit of showing up, of being there when needed, of answering each other.
“You never call.” Superman told her quietly over the rain, teasing her softly, but the Bat didn’t turn to look at him, eyes fixed on the restless streets below. Normally he would make an effort to get into her line of sight, maybe hover in the air right before her, but her shoulders were even tenser than normally, which is why he decided not to push his luck. Bryce had reached out to him, which was unusually enough in and on itself, now he also wanted to know why. Doing anything to annoy her would slim his chance of learning about what weighed so heavily on her shoulders she actually reached out to him.
“I called you here to tell you something you need to know.” A beat passed. His smile faltered, sensing the weight in her voice. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Bryce felt troubled even more so than usually.
“Tell me what?” Bryce still didn’t turn. The mask made her unreadable, but her fingers flexed on the stone ledge.
“That I am done.” A long silence stretched between them. Even the city seemed to hush as Superman stepped closer but not too close to have her react negatively, his cape brushing the rooftop.
“Done?” He wondered out loud which had her nod once, sharply as usual.
“I have been at this for two years now. I made a promise that I would stop when…” She trailed off, not finishing the sentence. “I need to stop as long as I can still walk away.” She exhaled, sharp, almost a laugh but not quite.
“Are you sure?” Superman studied her, the hard lines of her silhouette against the neon of the city below as she glanced over her shoulder at him.
Realistically, Kal knew that she was human beneath that suit, that she had no powers to talk of, other than her determination and willpower and that all she had achieved came from discipline, training and one of the brightest minds on earth. He understood that she put herself at risk each and every time she went out to hunt down Gotham’s criminals, but despite all that, he had never considered that one day she would just quit.
“I thought you would try to talk me out of it. Tell me Gotham needs me.” A flicker of a smile of warmth at the edge of his mouth caused her to narrow her eyes suspicious of him and turn around to look down at the city once more while readjusting her gauntlet.
“Honestly? You’re… pretty brutal out here. Gotham might appreciate the night off. I think I read in a newspaper once that Gotham’s criminals breathe easier when the night is over because it means the Bat sleeps.” That earned him the ghost of a huffy laugh from her, a sarcastic one, but still, he will count it as a laugh.
Even after years of knowing each other and working together when the occasion arose, they have never quiet found common ground about their applied methods. Superman will always think of her as too violent and she will always think of him as a man capable of great violence but afraid of leaning into it, even though she understood why Superman could never act the way the Bat of Gotham did, she was also of the opinion that he let too much slip.
Metropolis and Gotham were two very different places and that also mirrored in their protectors. They faced different challenges, were creatures of their circumstances and their environment but so were their villains.
“It’s more than just one night off.” She corrected him easily, even though her voice carried a weight that normally warned him to be on high alert.
“I understand that.” His tone softened. “But… I also get wanting to walk away. You’ve earned that. You own Gotham nothing and if this is what you want, you deserve a quiet life away from all of this.” Finally, she turned her head fully, just enough that the shadows cut across her mask. The white lenses focusing in on him.
The storm light caught on his suit, bright even against the dark. He looked so out of place in Gotham, but for a moment, she had hated how safe he looked in his brought suit and even brighter smile on his lips. How safe his mere presence made her for the briefest of moment before she reminded herself that she lived in a forest full of monsters and that she did not need to be afraid of them, before she was the scariest thing that lived in those trees.
She could have thanked him for his understanding, but instead she just straightened and took a step forward to stand right before Superman, looking up at the man through the lenses of her mask. She had never seen him with her own eyes, not a single time. Somehow, she regretted it.
“I wanted to ask you to have an eye on Gotham for me. I will let Commissioner Gordon know to call you from now on, if you agree.” She told him, only for the Man of Steel to nod right away, as if she had just asked him to feed the cat and water the plants while she was away and, in a way, maybe she had just done that. Even though the first time they met, she had told him to leave her city and never come back. Well, that was a long time ago by now. Not that she liked having him in her city now either.
“Of course, I will keep your city safe for you.” Kal-El promised her earnestly.
“Well then everything is settled.” The Bat concluded, a bit uneasy when not even unsure. “I will hang up the mantel, Gotham is your city come dawn.” The words felt heavier than she thought they would.
Bryce took a step over to the edge of the rooftop, but then she felt Superman’s hand closing around her elbow stopping her from moving away.
“B, wait.” He told her, which had her look over her shoulder at him, the glance through her emotionless white lenses alone was enough for the Man of Steel to instantly let go. Bryce appreciated that, knowing that Kal could treat her a whole lot different too, but he was always considerate with her, always the big blue boy scout that just wanted to help.
“What about the League?” Kal wondered, which had Bryce frown at him, not that he could see it.
“I will make sure the funding is secure.” She let him know, for she had already thought about it, but just because she could no longer personally be out there on the street didn’t mean she won’t make sure that the likes of Superman and Wonder Woman had enough resources to operate freely.
“That’s not what I meant.” Kal pointed out right away. “Oh, come on. Let us at least throw you a retirement party. Barry can put something together in under five minutes.”
“As much as I would love your ‘not-even-five-minutes-of-thought-made-about-it’ retirement party, I want to go quietly.” She told Kal, who frowned, for that wasn’t what he had meant and B must have known it.
“You don’t want anyone to say goodbye to you because there was the chance that they could maybe show emotions about you leaving us, so you just don’t tell them.” He corrected her, knowing her for long enough to understand that she must think of the possibility of the other Leaguers getting all emotional on her as taxing.
“I told you.” Bryce pointed out. “But if you're going to be particular annoying, I will call Arthur instead and leave a voice message, that shall be sufficient.”
“We will miss you.” Kal said softly, that fond smile on his lips, which always caused dread to settle in the pit of her stomach.
“Don’t.” She advised, only for the soft fond smile to disappear and for a tried exhale to leave his lips.
“Maybe the world greatest detective could leave me her phone number, if I want to compare notes about Gotham’s rogue gallery. You could still answer the first few weeks when I turn on the Bat signal. Job as a consultant for a bit.” She would like that, but she also knew if she kept doing it, even if it was only sometimes to help out Superman, she would be back on this roof, wearing her suit before the week was over and she couldn’t allow herself to do that, not after the promise she had given.
“Gordon is very well informed, and you are Superman. You won’t need me to deal with them.” She promised, knowing that she could rely on Superman. He would keep her city safe just as much as he kept the city across the harbour safe. It was as if he was born for it.
“What about the Joker? He is so obsessed with you, I don’t think he will accept me as your substitute.” Kal pointed out and Bryce had thought about that for a while.
To her, the Joker was the greatest danger to a smooth transition from the Bat to Superman as Gotham’s protector. She had been unsure on how he would take it, especially because there is no predicting what the Joker plans, but Kal-El was Superman. Bryce had to trust that he would get the hang of it quickly and intercept the Joker, before he could do anything too drastic.
“Don’t give him a chance to be dramatic. You need to deal with him quickly and effectively. No playing around. And don’t talk to him about me. That might trigger him.” She advised him, for this might be the best course of actions. If Kal-El had already dealt with the Joker and brought him back to Arkam before he had even the time to figure out that the Bat had retired, then even better.
“So… that’s really it? You’re leaving us just like that?” Superman wondered.
“There is one more thing.” The Bat informed him, before freeing a small lead box from her belt. She didn’t need to open it for either of them to know what was in it. Superman had called it an insurance. World’s insurance against a god in the hands of mankind, that’s what Bryce called it.
“You will need someone else to watch over it.” Bryce told him, the lead box laying offered for Superman to take in the palm of her hand, but as he reached out, he did not take it.
“I advise you to give it to Diana.” Kal simply closed her fingers around the box, before moving her hand towards herself, before removing his own hands fully.
“No, you keep it.” Superman decided right away.
“Kal.” She protested, but he stood with his decision, until her frown softened him somewhat.
“At least until I find someone else, I can trust enough to have it. You are the only one I know who can possibly stop me should the need ever arise, B.”
“Diana…” She began put stopped upon seeing the look Superman was giving her. This wasn’t as much about his trust for the other League members as it was for his nostalgia. He didn’t want yet someone else to hold it when he had handed it to her for safe keeping, when he had trusted her like that.
“Alright.” She agreed with a less sharp nod, before pocketing the box once more.
“Let me know when. I will keep the communicator for now.” Bryce expressed, knowing that that meant their goodbye wasn’t for forever yet and maybe that was exactly what Kal had wanted. A way to bring her back. They would see each other again and if only for her to hand over the box with the piece of kryptonite. Maybe Kal got the lifeline he wanted after all.
“I wanted to tell you. In person.” The Bat needed him to know, the silent that had momentarily settled over them heavy with the weight of an imposing goodbye. Bryce had always been detected, kept away from the more personal aspects of the League, but she did apricate the partnership Superman had offered her early on, that had ultimately led to them reaching out to more people like them and their founding of the League.
“We’ve been a good team. Handling the League without you will be a challenge. I’m not sure I can.” Kal nodded in agreement, something soft and nostalgic for a time that was now coming to an end passing over his face. Bryce didn’t want to see that look, it didn’t suit him. Kal-El was the embodiment of hope, he had no business to wear an expression like that and certainly not because of her.
“You have Diana. You will be fine.” The young vigilante dared to remind him, but his expression didn’t change much at all. Bryce did know that he apricated Diana, had more in common with her than with Bryce herself, but their shared beginning, their shared first steps in this world as hero and vigilante in her case had brought them closer together than the young heiress would ever like to admit.
They were the first. Superman and the Bat. Before they became a team, they were a duo even though a reluctant one at times.
“Anyways, I couldn’t just disappear on you after all we went through together, so here I am.” Bryce added, remembering the one argument Superman always made when he once again tried to get her to tell him who she really was behind that mask. If something happened to her, if she would drop off the surface of the earth, he wouldn’t even know where to start looking for her. He would never know what happened to her. Couldn’t help her even if she needed him. Still, she had never told him who she was, and he hasn’t either.
It was a lingering agreement from the time before they have founded the Justice League together, while all the other members of the League have disclosed their secret identity at one point sooner or later, Superman and the Bat have not.
Even if he could just peak behind her mask to learn. He had never done so, but in this moment, letting her go without knowing was harder than ever before.
“Not that I haven’t thought about it.” She added a bit quieter.
“I apricate it. I know that you aren’t a fan of talking about such things.” Superman said almost softly, before offering her his hand to shake.
“Well, I can’t say I am not sad. The world’s finest about to split up, it is the end of an era. I really liked working with you. I will miss you, B.”
Bryce hesitated for a moment, before taking his offered hand, to shake it. She forced herself to smirk slightly also saddened by the end of this era, but Bryce knew she had to get out if she wanted to live a life with Harvey. She couldn’t have both, couldn’t have the best of both worlds.
“We had a productive time.” She agreed. “Take care of yourself, Kal.” Bryce said, before letting go of his hand.
“You too, B.” Superman wished her farewell, then he stepped off the roof and rose into the night sky.
He wanted to say her name, not the one she wore with the mask, but the one he didn’t know. He wanted to know it now. He wanted to know her like that, But she had never told him and he would never again have the opportunity to ask, but he had to accept her autonomy, her decision to let go and so he did pretend he was able to do such a thing.
For a long moment Bryce stayed where she was, looking after Superman, who she might never see again, after two years of masked companionship, of something close to friendship. Two years of working together, of saving their respective cities together and of saving each other’s lives. Two years of being in the trenches together, of loyalty and trust. He was the only one, outside the cave she ever truly looked at as equals.
He will manage she told herself. Kal had handled the League for over a year at this point. Superman no longer needed his human consultant. He had learned to lead a group, she was just there to make sure it was all going smoothly at this point.
Bryce had to admit to herself that she was sad to see him go and that a small part of herself would have wished he would have fought her on her decision to hang up the mantel a bit more. But he didn’t. He had said he understood, and Bryce wondered how so, when not even she herself understood half of what she was doing.
All of this was happening in the name of her family. Thomas and Martha Wayne. But slowly Bryce began to wonder how much a promise to a set of corpses was worth after all, when the living needed her, while she watched Superman fly back to Metropolis.
Never did Bryce made decisions without having all the facts, never did she allow her feelings to guide her, but sticking to this promise she made to her parents after they have already left her did not feel like an informed decision. It felt wrong. And it had nothing to do with Harvey. It was the promise she had made that had her upset now. For her feelings for Harvey were genuine, it was just the wedding she wasn’t so sure about after all.
The rain was still beating down at her, she barely felt it, only the occasional drop on her cheeks, on her lips, the cold slowly caused her to go numb. But she stayed for this was the last night the Bat lived. She wondered what Gotham will be like without the Bat, without her. Bryce guessed she will figure it out soon enough.
But for now, she couldn’t just go home because the storm had hit, she was watching the city as if it might vanish without her. But of course, it wouldn’t. It burned.
It breathed and come morning they would have a new protector.
Her hand curled unconsciously into a fist, nails biting into the fabric of her gloves. She needed to let the city go as long as she still could or it would swallow her whole and she was afraid of what she would become then.
Alfred had voiced similar concerns before. He had pointed out that all the evil terrorising Gotham had one thing in common. Her. They all connected to her and for the longest time, she fought him on it. Said that they connected to her, for she was the one stepping up to them, but maybe he was right after all. Maybe the mere existence of the Bat, was what had caused all those creatures to step into the light. Maybe it was all her fault after all. Trying to solve violence with even more violence.
Superman had thought of her as too violent as well. The first time they met, he had gotten it all wrong and tried to arrest her for beating up a gang of traffickers. Bryce guessed that even now, Kal had never truly understood the concept behind the Bat, but that was alright. She was the only one, who needed to understand it. Understand the codex. But now it was time to leave and become the daughter, her parents would be proud of. As long as she still could.
The cave was unusually quiet. No hum of monitors. No sound of engines cooling. Just the cavernous echo of footsteps as Bryce moved through, deliberate and steady. On a mission for the very last time.
She was dressed in simple clothes. Casual even, not in armour, not wrapped in shadows, for that was no longer who she was. Now, the role she would have to play for the rest of her life was Bryce Wayne, the princess of Gotham, their heiress of the Wayne legacy.
While some of the old models of the suit were behind glass for her to look at and be reminded of what they meant, her current suit hung lifeless across her arms, heavy armour and Kevlar, that had saved her life countless times. It seemed hefty in a way it never seemed when she wore it as she made her way over to a steel trunk at the far end of the platform. Bryce opened it with an uneasy heart and laid the suit inside. Gauntlets, boots, pieces of armour and the cowl. The cape, folded last, settling like a burial shroud.
Behind her, there was the sound of a tray. Porcelain. The clink of a spoon against china. Alfred approached with two cups of tea as if this was just another return home after a long night and it was, in some way. It made her melancholic. It was the end of an era too.
“I never thought I would see this day. And when I did imagine it, when I just wished for you to stop, I confess, I was always glad for it. I had to be, for you walked away with your life.” Alfred told her softly, while Bryce remained kneeling in front of the steel trunk. She didn’t look at him, couldn’t, for she couldn’t bear the look in his eyes even when she was uncertain of what she would see there.
Should she find relief, she would only feel guilty that it took her so long to walk away, but would she find disappointment even though surely hidden, she wasn’t sure she could live with it either.
Maybe she should just go to bed. It had been a long day.
“And now?” She asked despite herself, closing the trunk, she pressed her thumb to the biometric seal and it hissed shut.
“Now, I leave it to you as I always have, Miss Wayne. It is your decision to make.” Alfred informed her as he handed her the cup of tea, which she sat down beside her, perfectly prepared the way she liked it, then he took a sip of his own and let a second or two pass by.
“Though I wonder…what did Master El say?” Bryce’ jaw flexed, for she knew just as much as he did, that he was listening in to everything she was saying during patrol. It might have annoyed her in the beginning but, Bryce felt as if she had long passed the opportunity to complain about it. She guessed it made him feel better to hear her voice instead of having to simply wait for the sun to rise so he would see if his ward would find her way back home.
“You know what he said. You always know everything.” She muttered under her breath.
“Eavesdropping has, on occasions, kept you alive, Bryce.” He made sure to remind her with the faintest of smiles and she almost laughed at that, almost. But instead, she got up, the cup of tea with her again and turned to the main console. She approached the Batcomputer slowly as nostalgia overcame her. Her hand hovered over the power switch.
“Are you sure about this?” Alfred wondered as Bryce didn’t hesitate, didn’t waver. One by one, the lights died out. Screens blackened. The heartbeat of the Batcave slowed into silence.
Suddenly the cave felt like a tomb. The only sounds to be heard were the bats hanging from the ceiling of the cave. Maybe it was a grave after all.
“How can one, who doesn’t know the future be sure about anything?” She wondered, while reaching for the teacup Alfred had brought her, only to take a sip before placing it back down on the tray, for she had something else to carry.
Walking over to the imposing steel trunk waiting for her, she lifted it into her arms, before leading the way upstairs, the stairs that wrapped around the elevator, the only place in the bat cave still illuminated by light. Alfred followed her carrying the tray.
“What about Superman? You complemented each other well.” Alfred mentioned gently as he watched his ward choose the stairs over the elevator for some reason.
Bryce turned on the stairs, her face carved of stone, but her eyes, those olive-green eyes flickered with something unguarded, even if only for a second.
“I think he was something like a friend after a while…. After we found mutual ground. And now I might never see him again but… I’m giving up this life, Al. I have to give up all of it, I can’t just keep his… acquaintance.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but she buried it by walking up the stone steps.
Finally reaching the top, Bryce let Alfred step through the door and into the manor first, before turning off the lights shining down at the stairs as well and then stepping into the manor too. Putting the steel truck down for a moment, she closed the door and locked it for good measure. With a final metallic click, the Batcave was sealed for good.
“I want this door to stay locked. Keep the key and don’t ever give it back to me.” Bryce decided before placing the brass key onto the tray. Alfred studied her for a long moment, then he pocketed the key as asked.
“And the kryptonite Master El didn’t want you to return?” The butler wondered, causing Bryce to pull a small lead-lined case from her sweatshirt pocket, holding it like a weight, before kneeling down in front of the steel trunk, unlocking it once more to find her suit, before putting the small box inside as well, then she looked up to find Alfred’s gaze already on her.
“I will bury it with the suit in the garden.” She let him know. “It’s not every day you can attend your own funeral.” Her tone was sombre as she said it, before locking the trunk once more and lifting it into her arms.
Bryce didn’t look back as she left the manor with the trunk, as she went into the garden to bury the Bat of Gotham. Rain was still falling but she didn’t seem to care.
For a while, Alfred simply left her to it, watched her as she put the shovel to work in the soaked soil, for he guessed she needed a moment, just as much as he did. After all this time, it was just over. He had never thought this day would come and now that it was there, despite what he had told Bryce about him being glad she still can walk away in one piece being true, it felt so unexpectedly heavy.
Picking up an umbrella, Alfred decided to join her, for he had promised that she would never be alone, and he did not intend to break that promise. There was no denying that she was stuck in her own head, for she did not even notice his approach, until she looked up almost confused as the rain suddenly stopped falling down on her.
Alfred had extended his arm, held the umbrella over the figure of his ward sitting on soaked soil, the trunk already pushed down into the hole she had dug out, but something just seemed to keep her from pushing the dirt into place over it, ending this chapter of her life for good. He considered offering her help, kneeling down next to her and take her shaking hands into his to help her, but Alfred knew that she had to take this step on her own.
There were still remaining rain drops that travelled down Bryce’s soaked body, leaving her hair dripping, some of the strains were plastered to her face, framing her cheeks, but Alfred only needed to take one look to know that some of those drops were salty. Some were filled with grief. Even if she would never openly cry in front of anyone. It was just water traveling down her cheeks, her shoulders didn’t shake, no sound left her throat. She had sealed herself of too, just a lot sooner than she had sealed the Batcave off.
She had made herself into a weapon for this city, had transformed herself into a tool, a knife and Alfred wished she would be tired of that. Of being a knife, that she no longer wanted all that violence anymore, but Bryce never minded the violence, or changing herself into whatever Gotham needed her to be. The brutality, the violence, maybe it had always been there in her, maybe it had been planted a long time ago. Maybe Gotham had poisoned her. Maybe it had always felt familiar and therefor brought her comfort in a twisted way.
This was her crusade, mindless of her own needs and health, Alfred often felt, pointless when those people she had put in, broke out of Arkham the very next week. He didn’t understand how she managed to take it for this long, how she never blamed Gotham for twisting her into the persona she was now. How she managed to go on, when the night became darker and darker.
He wished for her to be happy, to be free. But sometimes he wondered if she was trying to fight against something that had already won a long time ago. He wondered if she was chasing ghosts and he feared what would happen to her now, that she gave up her crusade.
All that violence in her, all that brutality, she had no longer a reason to direct all those negative emotions into a goal that was ultimately good. Thinking about it, he wondered how she had managed for this long, but then he was reminded of what was in that steel trunk. The Batsuit.
To say it was just a piece of her would not be right, for the Bat was half of her, the half that was free to do as she thought was right, the half that was not bound to convictions, bound to society and the need to feel accepted. The Bat was the justice Bryce Wayne would never manage to bring or receive.
Maybe it was more than just half of her, but what was poetic about the decision to bury the steel trunk with her suit in it was not only the symbolic goodbye she said to it, but it was also the piece of someone else, she had decided to bury with it. A piece of the man, of the anchor she had found years ago, that kept her in the light, that had loosened her fist, if only a bit.
The Bat was her life, and she buried it with a piece of Kal-El, Last son of Krypton. Admitting to a connection by doing this, she would never mention out loud.
Admitting that despite her stoic exterior, he had reached something within her.
Alfred watched her fingers hover over the handle of the shovel, knuckles white. In his mind he saw another child, one sent to earth from a burning world and raised under a yellow sun. A boy who would never be like those around him, no matter how carefully he learned their ways. And then he looked at the young woman in the mud. Bryce Wayne, last daughter of a dynasty built on blood and tragedy, who lost her parents before she was old enough to remember their voices, who had stood by grave after grave until she stopped feeling anything when faced with another one, no matter who may be laid to rest there.
Two souls shaped by loss. Two souls carrying legacies they never chose.
He an alien in every room he entered, she an orphan in every crowd. Yet, despite all the odds, the pull between them had been undeniable. A strange companionship between the last son of Krypton and the lone heiress of Gotham, each recognising in the other the same terrible gravity of isolation. Neither human in the way the world expected them to be. Both still reaching, still finding a fragment of warmth in the other’s shadow.
The rain pattered against the umbrella’s canvas like a slow heartbeat. Alfred shifted, the old ache in his knees forgotten, and let his voice cut gently through the grey.
“The war is over. It’s alright to lay down your weapon.” Alfred told her softly.
Bryce blinked at him, something flickering behind her eyes. Then, without a word, she took the shovel and climbed back to her feet from where she had been kneeling in the mud and drew the first wet scoop of earth over the trunk. Mud thudded against steel. Another scoop. And another, until the last glint of metal disappeared under the soil and the rain began to smooth it all flat, as though it had never been opened.
When she finally straightened, her palms were smeared with black earth, her hair a curtain of dark strands across her face. Alfred stepped closer, not to guide her, but simply to stand beside her, shielding her from the rain.
Somewhere beneath their feet, the Bat lay silent.
Bryce let out a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding and whispered, more to herself than to him. “It’s done.”
“It’s a new beginning.” He argued, head inclined, voice low and certain. And together they turned back toward the house, the rain closing behind them like a curtain.