Chapter 30 Only A Hero Can Save Us

One year to the day. It didn't seem possible. Helena wrapped the sleek black trench coat around her tighter, remembering the same chilling wind on her walk to the Troys' home. She referred to them as the Troys, not her parents, in both speech and thought now. Funny, the difference a year can make. She was no longer Helena Troy, top level gymnast and soon to be college graduate; she was now Helena Wayne, newly discovered Wayne bastard who naturally took after the grandfather as she was less fop more studious first year med student, overcompensating for the father she can't stand and sees as an embarrassment to the family. It was amazing, the lies people believe when they are so carefully crafted.

At least the press was affording her this one moment of privacy, it'd been a few months since the announcement. Apparently that was all the time it took for the shine of scandal to wear off and for the paparazzi to discover that the daughter wasn't quite the tabloid fodder her father was. There are only so many pictures of her walking to class and work that people want to see. The story of the secret affair between Bruce Wayne and former socialite Selina Kyle was fascinating and intriguing, but the actual child they created was boring. How little they knew.

Huntress on the other hand was the hottest thing to hit Gotham since the Great Fire. A single picture of her could score an aspiring photographer at least a million ever since Gina Vale's report on her encounter with the newest victim. Even more exciting were the rumors that she was the daughter of the Batman, though her mother's identity was debated. Some insisted with her sex appeal and a body like that she had to be the daughter of Catwoman. Others insisted that there was no possible way she could do what she does without some superhuman capabilities, so Wonder Woman was the natural choice. Still more knew the girl took her mother's name, and was the daughter of the original Huntress. The options were endless. Dick went so far as to quip that apparently Batman got around as much as Bruce Wayne. Bruce's response had been a stern glare.

None of it mattered to Helena at this moment; she was here to honor a memory. She removed two red roses from her coat, letting the harsh wind whip the delicate petals she'd been protecting. She placed them reverently in front of the tombstones.

"I did the same thing."

Helena wasn't surprised by the voice. She turned to face him like she'd expected him all along. "For your parents?"

Bruce carefully walked closer. "Yes, two red roses placed in a dirty alley every year. The alley doesn't even exist anymore but I still go."

Helena looked back to regard the graves carefully once more. Bruce stepped closer. "You know, I was here, when they were first buried. You handled yourself well."

"I know." She stuttered a bit. "Well, I didn't know it was you, but I felt a presence that entire day. Like someone was watching, but it was a protective and watchful gaze so I wasn't nervous."

Bruce stood close enough now that Helena caught his scent on the breeze. It was a comfort to her, leather, some expensive spice, and the hint of damp oldness that came more from the manor and cave in which he lived than the man himself. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and bury herself in his strength, but she wasn't the type. She would stand strong and alone.

Bruce was not a man who could admit much of anything. He struggled greatly in telling Dick that he was proud of him. The same way he struggled in telling Barbara how much he appreciated her efforts and hard work. The same way he never could find the words for Tim and how he always saw them as such kindred spirits, more so than the rest. He tried a few times to tell those who meant so much to him how he felt, but failed miserably each time. So he would not come out and say that he was proud of Helena. He only hoped his other efforts didn't go unnoticed. "Clark has been badgering me with more frequency about you joining the League."

Helena scoffed. "Clark or Jason?"

"Both, but more so Clark. He's a friend, after all." Bruce didn't want to admit that it was because Jason still harbored a bit of his childhood fear of Bruce, though Helena suspected on her own.

Helena was hesitant to express her next thought, but it kept her from reporting her observation that her father had far too few friends. "You know, I never did quite understand that friendship. How did it even get started?"

Bruce repressed a sigh. "Would you believe it began out of a mutual distrust of each other?"

Helena scoffed once again. "Please, Dad, if I ever saw you initially trust someone I would immediately assume magic, clones or alien body snatchers."

It was the first time she'd ever called him Dad. She wasn't sure if that was the true reason or it was the joke itself, or a combination of both, but then Helena heard a rare sound: genuine laughter from the genuine Bruce Wayne.

Unlike her father, her hair echoes the movement of her cape, only behind the mask is it free. When she is Helena Wayne it's always pulled back in a ponytail or bun to hide its length. She often wondered if it would've been wiser to have it pulled back as Huntress, but there was always the chance it would come loose and it made more sense symbolically this way.

Huntress, Gotham's new protector, watched over her city from a rooftop perched beside a stone gargoyle. She'd just finished capturing the Riddler once more, broke two of his ribs in the process of taking him down and in. He accused her of not fighting fair, but she responded by quipping that no one ever said she had to fight fair.

Besides, Helena had been hoping for a short night, she had a busy day tomorrow. And since Helena Wayne was a studious medical student who was perhaps a little too shy for her own good, she couldn't just sleep through her daytime responsibilities as her father had done. It was the downside to the public face she'd chosen, but it made the most logical sense. She was just about to leave to get some much needed rest when she spotted something in the sky.

The Bat Signal.

Commissioner Grant was beginning to get used to this routine, where officially Huntress was a vigilante who needed to be caught, but in reality was his go to detective for the impossible cases. She was usually difficult to work with as she only played by her rules, but her results couldn't be questioned. He also knew she cared as she was the one who confirmed Cassie's death, and though he doubted such a woman could have friends, but he was starting to include her on his short list. He had a good suspicion of who she was, considering the identity of her successor, but it was never discussed.

"You know, the Bat Signal is so retro, maybe we should figure out a less conspicuous way of meeting."

Ethan was proud of himself, he barely flinched at all at her sudden appearance, and he liked to think he was getting better. He looked at the beauty in the dark. "Part of the function of the signal is to serve as a reminder and warning to the criminals of Gotham."

She tilted her head, considering his comment, and then shrugged her shoulders. "True."

He knew she was done speaking, so he just launched into it, "Batman wasn't the only person from the past who had a kid."

She smirked. "You believe that old wives' tale?"

"What about Batman or you being his kid?"

She took the vid screen from his hands, he hadn't realized she'd seen it. He gave her the same advice his grandmother used on him, "Patience is a virtue."

She threw her mother's advice back at him. "Good things may come to those who wait, but better things come to those who take."

He had to stifle a chuckle. "You make jokes?"

"More like observations."

"Not very Batman-like from what I've heard."

She gave him a very Batman-like glare in response before beginning the video. The screen showed two women dressed as clowns, robbing a bank. By the end, there appeared to be no survivors only maniac laughter. The only reaction the Commissioner got from Huntress was an almost inaudible quip, "Because what's Gotham without a demented clown or two?"

He ignored the comment and answered the question that hadn't been asked yet. "Call themselves the Harleytwins."

She nodded and handed back the screen vid. "I'll look into it."

The Commissioner blinked and she was gone.

A/N: So, sequel? I have an idea, but not a firm plot so I'm open to suggestions and would love any feedback.