As promised, the beginning of my series! I decided to fill in the gaps and missing scenes of Origins, so here you go! I don't know where this story is heading, but I hope you'll stick with me. Please enjoy!

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The day that Leta Martha Wayne was brought home, Wayne Manor seemed to be brighter than ever.

Princess Diana of Themyscira rocked her newborn daughter, cradling her against her chest. "She is so tiny," she breathed. She was sure she had never seen anything so small in her life. Her infant daughter was an anomaly to her. There were no babies where she was from; in fact, she had been the last child to ever walk Paradise Island. She had seen babies during her time in Man's World, but she had never held one.

She had never carried or birthed one.

Bruce Wayne cocked his head to the side. "Infants typically are," he remarked nonchalantly.

Though, even he had a hard time keeping his eyes off his daughter. He had never dreamed of having his own child, not since he had been that bright-eyed, eight-year-old boy. Yet, here she was. She had her tiny face buried into her mother's chest, impossibly small fingers resting against the woman's shirt. Her hair was scarce but dark and she seemed to have Diana's impossibly blue eyes and full lips and his slanted nose.

She was perfect in every sense of the word.

Never in a million years had Bruce thought that Diana, known as Wonder Woman to the world, would ever choose him. Why would she when she could have had sweet, kind Clark Kent, bright, funny Barry Allen, or loyal, trustworthy Steve Trevor?

But no, she had picked him. Dark, brooding Batman. Show-off, playboy Bruce Wayne. It boggled his mind at times; how could a person as pure and good as Diana Prince want him? And how could he have allowed himself to be drawn into her light? How could they, as opposite as they were, ever work?

Alas, it had happened. And something beautiful and wonderful had come from it.

Diana rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean," she retorted. Her admiring gaze did not move from their daughter, however. "She is absolutely gorgeous, isn't she?"

Bruce couldn't argue with that. "She's beautiful," he agreed. He traced his finger over the delicate curve of her cheek. "I'm going to have to keep an eye on her." If she turned out to be half as breathtaking as Diana, he was in trouble. How did one go about fending off suitors vying for the affections of an Amazon princess?

The exiled warrior glanced up at him. "We made this," she proclaimed proudly, holding up the small child. Pride shined in her eyes as she presented their daughter. "Can you believe we made this?" She vaguely wondered if this was how her mother had felt when she had molded her from clay.

He gave her a small smile. "It's settling," he admitted. His heart swelled with affection when the baby gave a tiny, quiet yawn. The man held his finger to her, allowing her small hand to grasp it. She seemed to be reaching out to him, trusting him with her heart and soul.

It was then that he made a promise to protect his baby girl with everything he had.

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It was this memory, among a few others, that kept Bruce going.

It had been six years since Leta was born. It had been two years since he had last seen her. Every day, he was losing hope that he would find his little girl. He knew the statistics of these things; she was more than likely dead. But something inside Bruce refused to give up. It was as if the eight-year-old boy inside him was begging him not to lose another part of his family.

He couldn't bring himself to let that boy down.

Tired eyes stared blankly at the screen in front of him, his fingers typing furiously on the keyboard. He had been doing his best to locate Themyscira, to no avail. The Amazons were cut off from just about everything. Diana had told him that it was hidden from the rest of the world, but he'd underestimated just how hidden.

Diana. The name made him cease typing as his mind lingered on the woman who had captured his heart. He had loved her and still did to this very day. It made his heart ache to think about how she was gone from this world.

Bruce closed his eyes, the memory of that day forcing itself into his head.

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Diana rolled her eyes. "I wish you would stop worrying."

Bruce scowled as the woman in front of him disregarded his concerns. "Princess, I have a bad feeling," he stressed. She had received an invitation from her mother to drop by for a visit with Leta. This could have been a woman attempting to make amends with her daughter and wanting to meet her granddaughter. Or something more sinister was going on. He still remembered how devastated Diana had been when her own mother had exiled her.

He wasn't going to be quick to trust the woman who had hurt her.

She, however, smiled indulgently at him. "You always have a bad feeling, my love," she responded, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Everything will be fine. Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

Of course he hadn't. Diana had been endowed with gifts from her Gods when she was an infant. She was easily the strongest woman he had ever met. Logically, he had nothing to worry about. But Bruce couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. "You aren't indestructible, Princess," he reminded her.

Diana glared at him. "No, but I am the Champion of the Gods," she retorted sharply. "Do not forget that I bested every one of my sisters to be here. There is nothing my mother can do to harm either of us. Leta and I will be fine."

As if on cue, little footsteps pattered over to them. "Mommy, Daddy!" exclaimed four-year-old Leta Wayne. Her long dark hair was in pigtails and she wore a pair of light green overalls. "Look what I made!" She held up a piece of paper for them to see.

Diana's glare instantly softened upon seeing their daughter. "Oh, let me see!" she gushed, taking the paper. "Oh, my sun and stars, it's glorious! But who are these people in the picture?"

Leta grinned at her. "You and Daddy and Alfred and Grandma Hi- Hippie-" She seemed to struggle with the name.

"Hippolyta," corrected Bruce gently, feeling his own expression morph. He had never known that a child could easily bring one so much happiness. His daughter truly was his world. "Your grandmother's name is Hippolyta."

The child turned her big eyes and wide smile to him. "Thank you, Daddy!" she chirped, raising her arms up toward him. He obliged, scooping her up into his arms. She took his face into her hands, patting his cheek. "Are we going yet?"

Diana sighed. "Leta, we have talked about this," she reminded the four-year-old, frowning. "Your daddy, unfortunately, can not come with us."

Men were still forbidden on the island. Bruce would have felt better if he had been able to go with him, but they both knew he couldn't. If Diana brought him along, she would risk more tension between her and her mother. This did nothing to quell his apprehension.

Leta frowned back at her mother. "Why not?" she demanded, crossing her little arms. She gave a tiny glare, one that was cute rather than threatening.

Bruce kissed her chubby cheek. "Because your grandma doesn't like me," he whispered into her ear playfully. She giggled as he blew a raspberry onto her cheek.

Diana, of course, heard. "Bruce Wayne!" she scolded, though a smile was tugging at her lips. "Don't tell her that!" She held her hands out to her daughter who readily climbed into them. "Come, my sun and stars. We must be going soon. Have you said goodbye to Alfred?"

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh!" she answered. "I showed him my picture and he said we could hang it up!"

Her mother set the picture on the counter. "Well, maybe your daddy can do it while we're gone," she suggested, giving Bruce a pointed look.

"Of course," agreed Bruce. The picture wasn't anything special- stick figures under a purple sky and yellow grass- but it would get a special place on the refrigerator. Anything that Leta created would be shown off as though it were the Mona Lisa.

Diana kissed him again, this time on his mouth. "We will be back before you know it," she promised. Her smile was so genuine and reassuring that he immediately believed it. "Until then, try not to worry so much, okay?"

"Fine," conceded Bruce reluctantly. He knew that he wouldn't be able to change her mind, she was as stubborn as a mule. "Just be careful, alright?"

She chortled. "Deal," she agreed. She held their daughter out toward him. "Leta, say goodbye to your father."

Leta leaned forward to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Daddy!" she said. "I'm gonna miss you!"

Bruce smiled at her, feeling his heart warm. "I'll miss you too, honey," he replied. He ran his fingers through his daughter's dark locks, savoring the feeling. He wasn't sure how he would survive without them here.

Diana set Leta on the ground. "Go get in your car seat, my darling," she gently ordered. Leta did as she was told and Diana turned to him. "Cheer up, my love." She raised his head lovingly. "And when we get back..."

He grinned despite himself. "The wedding," he finished. The rest of the League had wondered why it was taking them so long to get married, but neither of them had been in a rush. They had decided to enjoy their life together and with their daughter. Bruce had only proposed a little before Leta's fourth birthday. "Can't wait, Princess."

He waved as they left, but Bruce could not ignore the terrible feeling gripping his stomach.

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He shouldn't have ignored that feeling.

Looking back, Bruce kept pondering what he could have done differently. He could have convinced Diana to stay at home. He could have insisted on accompanying them. He could have faked a problem with the Javelin. He could have even had Shayera go with them as extra protection. Anything would have been better than the alternative.

The alternative being that the Javelin's signal went dead nearly a day after their departure.

It was then that Bruce had known that something went horribly wrong. He had tried everything after that; reaching Diana's comlink, tracking down the tracer in Leta, and even flying around the Mediterranean. But there was nothing.

"Superman to Batman."

Bruce scowled slightly at Clark's cheerful voice. The boy scout had a perfect life; a son, a wife, and both of his parents safely tucked away on their farm. He couldn't help but feel jealous when all three of those things had been torn away from him. He was happy for his friend, of course; no one should have to suffer what he had gone through and if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Clark. But he missed Diana and Leta and his parents more than anyone would ever comprehend.

"What is it?" he growled in irritation.

But Clark's next words made him freeze. "J'onn has a lead."

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Batman was at the Watchtower as soon as physically possible. He stalked through the corridors, minor heroes and civilian staff staying clear of him. His cape billowed behind him and a dark scowl was painted onto his face. He practically threw open the doors to the meeting room, the white eyes of his cowl narrowed into dangerous slits.

"Talk," he snapped at his fellow Founders. Shayera glared at him with annoyance, John and J'onn kept their faces blank, Barry jumped, and Clark flinched slightly. Bruce's lip curled in frustration. "Well?"

J'onn stood up. "As you know, I was able to make telepathic contact with Leta a few months ago," he reminded the room.

Bruce nodded; the Martian's success had reawakened his drive and determination to find his daughter. It was how he knew that she was alive and on Themyscira, although he had no idea what condition she was in. It was also how he knew that Diana was... He winced at the reminder. J'onn had been kind enough to keep sending her memories of him and Diana. "And?" he urged.

"Lately, her thoughts have been intense," continued J'onn. Bruce felt his heart leap in his throat. "It seems that her mentality has been growing strong. So strong, in fact, that I was able to pinpoint her location this morning."

It took him a few moments to process these words. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about seeing his little girl again. His mind raced a smile a minute. What would she look like? She would definitely be taller... He would have Alfred buy some new clothes. Would she still look like Diana? Or would his own features begin to show themselves? Would she still-?

"Bruce!" shouted Clark suddenly.

Bruce's attention snapped to the Man of Steel. "What?"

"You spaced out," Barry informed him, a bit timidly. He would never admit it, but he liked Barry well enough. He might have been a bit foolhardy at times, but he knew when to get serious. But the entire Justice League knew not to get on his bad side these days. "Are you okay?"

Bruce regarded them for a moment before turning around and walking toward the door.

"Wait a minute!" interrupted Shayera, soaring in front of him. Her green eyes leveled him with a glare. "Where do you think you're going?"

He gave his own right back. "To get my daughter," he glowered. How could she even ask such a stupid question? "Do you have a problem?" He didn't have time for this. Every minute wasted risked his daughter's well being.

John joined his wife, standing next to her. "In case you've forgotten, Bruce, we care about Leta too," he admonished. "Do you honestly think that we would let you go alone?"

Bruce blinked, not expecting that. Had he underestimated how much his fellow Founders had loved his daughter? Had she spent more time with them then he had realized? He had never thought about how her disappearance had affected them too. He looked around to view their faces. "You all feel this way?" he demanded.

Clark looked hurt. "You thought that we didn't?"

Barry gave him a sad smile. "Danica keeps asking about her," he revealed. "Iris and I miss having her over."

J'onn's face remained impassive. "She was our niece, my friend," he said simply. There was a touch of sadness in his voice. "Of course we all miss her and of course we want to help you."

Bruce almost hated how touched he was by their sentiments. He closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to clear his thoughts. When he found his daughter, he probably could use the support. Besides, he didn't have the patience to argue with them. "Fine," he agreed. "You all can come. But we leave now." They all nodded and followed him out of the door.

'I'm coming, Leta,' Bruce swore.

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You know, I'm almost proud of how I wrote Bruce here. It's not perfect, I'll admit, but it's a lot better than how I used to write him. Disgusting. I actually had no idea how to start this story until this came to me just now. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!