Bruce Wainright has (onerule) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-04-12 20:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, damian wayne, door: dc comics, huntress |
Who: Bruce, Helena and Damian
What: Talking. Lots of it.
Where: Wayne Manor.
When: Sometime before Morgan left.
Warnings/Rating: Feeeels.
Family time, Bruce suspected, equated to the dreaded we need to talk in terms of the severity of the impending conversation. Clearly this was something Damian and Helena had discussed amongst themselves first before she approached him with it, and there were numerous issues that might have acted as a motivating factor-- or factors, plural, if they had all been built upon one another. Helena had said there were things they wanted to talk to him about, and things they wanted him to talk about, and he was almost certain this had something to do with his refusal to allow Damian and Jason to pursue Ra’s on their own and his subsequent decision that he lead the mission. The Bat was not a follower. He led, and he gave commands, and he was obeyed. Somewhere along the line, in attempting to keep his family together, he’d lost sight of that, and his main problem was that he had trouble being a leader and a father simultaneously.
Or perhaps he simply needed to figure out when to be one, and when to be the other.
Regardless, he’d cleared his schedule as promised to ensure he gave Damian and Helena however much time they needed to discuss whatever it was they needed to discuss. On some level, Bruce was apprehensive, but he knew as well as anyone that communication was important, just as he knew it was an area in which he was severely lacking. So he put aside his plans, and he waited.
It might have made more sense to converse in the Batcave, but there were too many potential distractions and, at the very least, Bruce felt he owed them his full attention. So, rather than waiting for them below, he was in the kitchen, seated at the head of the table (where else?) with a cup of coffee in front of him and today’s edition of the Gotham Times in hand.
The assumption that this 'family time' was the equivalent of the dreaded 'we need to talk' was a correct one. Helena had said most of what she needed to in their conversation and some of it still rankled, like someone had rubbed her fur up the wrong way and she hadn't gotten a chance yet to smooth it down. She'd been honest when she had told him she didn't want to be angry at him and most of that had faded, but there was a lasting ache there now. Another time, when it didn't feel so much like everything was up in the air and she was ready to think about everything, she'd figure out why.
Until then, she was staying at Kara's place in Wayne Towers. It felt wrong to stay in Drake Manor and the thought of staying at Wayne Manor was like a blackened bruise -- it needed some time to fade before it would no longer be quite so tender. It hurt to stay at Kara's too, but less. She hadn't lived there long enough for all her stuff to be there, for the place to look inhabited, to smell like her, and that made it the best option at the moment.
Parking her little purple Prius in front of the Manor, she purposely didn't look towards the now empty Drake Manor as she got out and headed for the front door. Maybe if she was lucky, Damian would already be there.
Damian’s bike roared up to the manor a couple minutes later. He was getting used to juggling school along with bat family related duties instead of just haunting the mansion like he did as a kid. Dressed in jeans, a black shirt and an expensive looking leather jacket in black and red, the little bird looked exactly how a rich Wayne should. He took off his helmet and gloves, walking over to Helena as she moved towards the door. “Hey, sis.” Damian didn’t smile, but nodded his head a little in hello and looked at the manor door. He didn’t have a plan. He wasn’t even really sure what he wanted to say to Bruce and honestly he was kind of regretting the fact that Helena didn’t let him bring the taser.
A brief look of worry crossed his features before it vanished into a blank, serious expression. Hels could take care of herself and at the end of the day Damian still had a majority of the family on his side, but Bruce was harder for him to understand than anyone else in the brood. One misstep and he could say something that would lead to another couple of weeks in silent treatment. Damian put a hand on Helena’s shoulder briefly, then opened the door. “We’re here!” Damian shouted, bratty without realizing it and started wandering around the first floor of the mansion until he found Bruce in the kitchen.
He didn’t say anything, just sort of gave a grunt of a greeting before busying himself with the coffee machine. Damian didn’t seem mad or uncomfortable, just uncommunicative as per usual. “Hels, you want some?” Damian asked, reaching for a mug and pausing long enough to hear her response before getting another. He didn’t drink the stuff until he started going to college. It kept him from taking enough naps in the library to get banned for life.
Hels noticed that brief flicker of worry and tugged him into a quick hug before they entered the Manor. Of all of them, she was most likely to hug anyone at any given time, but she was also the one that grew up with that easy affection from both mother and father. Regardless of how this Cat and this Bat were, and no matter how much time had passed between this world and her own, she was still used to freely giving and getting it.
And Damian could probably use it. It was why she tended to tempt him into family stuff -- he needed to know how a family worked. Especially when he went into sullen Damian mode, like he was now. "Yes, please." They were definitely going to have to do something awesome for Easter. Maybe she'd dose him with chocolate and coffee and then let him have paints to go crazy with.
Not that she was going to tell anyone that now. While Damian got their coffees, she sat down in the chair to Bruce's left, legs curling up until brown booted feet were under her thighs. Much like the first time she'd met the Cat here, she was wearing heather gray pants, but her button down was a light pastel pink instead of white this time. Her gaze flicked back to Damian's back for a moment. They had been the ones to say that they needed to talk to Bruce and at the moment, it looked like if they wanted to talk at all instead of sulking and glaring and continuing the silent treatment, it was up to her.
So, fine. Where to start? "Hi." Yes, that was a good start. Basic and not at all what she was really looking for. At least it was less bratty then Damian's call that they were here. "Let's get to it, shall we? We want to talk to you and we want you to talk to us. Not order us around, not give lectures, but actually talk to us." That was better.
Bruce remained seated even when Damian loudly announced himself and gave no verbal indication of his location. He waited for them to find him, though he did set his paper down when the two of them entered the kitchen. A nod was what he gave in greeting, along with a simple “Hello”, and he watched as Damian poured the coffee as though body language alone might somehow indicate what was to come. After a long moment his gaze shifted to Helena, his expression calm yet unreadable. Normally Alfred would have been the one to bring them coffee, and he would have broken the silence, but Alfred wasn’t here, and he had long since accustomed himself to being alone.
He hoped the ensuing conversation would go well, but he had no real expectation of it. Helena made it quite clear that they wanted him to speak to them as equals, not as the Bat to his followers or an overbearing father, which he thought himself capable of. He could be reasonable, after all. “No lecturing, no orders. I can do that. Let’s talk, then.” He looked between the two, expectant.
Damian did want to talk and if either of them could see his expression while his back was turned, they’d understand how hard this was for him. Talking things out between family members was something Grayson pushed him into doing and it required so little work from his side that he could just sit there and grunt responses back. But, this was different. And, he cared about Bruce and Hels even if he didn’t really understand either of them very well for different reasons. He took a second to blank his expression, poured coffee for himself and Hels, then sat down on Bruce’s right. “I can start.” He said finally, looking at Bruce before snapping his gaze back down at the coffee.
“I didn’t know my father very well. My memory of him is...disjointed. And, I left that Gotham on bad terms.” Damian hadn’t really spoken about this to anyone but Selina and it showed. When the little bird talked about Grayson or Stephanie, it was with confidence that whatever went wrong he could reconcile with both of them. To him that’s what family was about. But, maybe it was too easy. “And, then I read that I end up dying despite everything you and the rest do to try and stop it. So, maybe we can be a family, but we’re doing it wrong.”
Helena was quiet except for saying thank you when Damian brought her a coffee. For all the times they talked, she really didn't know about Damian's past and about where he came from, though her eyes widened slightly when he mentioned dying. "You're not dying here," she said stubbornly, hands gripping the coffee cup tightly. It wasn't like she didn't know that what they did was dangerous -- everyone did, yet they still chose to do this.
But Damian dying on her watch? Not. Gonna. Happen. And while it might have been easier or more expected for her to walk around the table, she climbed over it instead, knees on the surface as her arms went around Damian's neck. It wasn't for his comfort though, it was for hers and Hels knew it. "We have to start by talking to one another. Even if we're mad." Her gaze fell on Bruce. She'd been so pissed off at him, but she still knew that he was making an attempt. "And even if it doesn't work the first time. Or the second time. Or the third. There's no quitting," she said quietly, her gaze moving from Bruce to Damian.
Bruce had never had a family to talk things out with, which left him woefully unprepared for the teenage-to-adult children which had seemingly appeared overnight, one after the other. He and Damian had still been struggling with their relationship when the others had come; none of which knew him, nor had he known them, but some had known each other. That, admittedly, had been difficult. With Alfred and Gordon gone, only the foes from his world remained. He’d come a long way from feeling as though he was constantly being cast in the shadow of another, better Bat, but it was still a sore point. Perhaps what he’d lost sight of, however, was that it wasn’t just difficult for him; there were others to consider as well.
He knew little about Damian’s relationship with his Bruce, in his Gotham. Luke had caught up on a few of the comics, but he hadn’t had time to continue, and the information he had here was fact, quantified and organized without care for the finer details. He did know about Damian’s death in the comic books, however, thanks to Selina, and so there was no surprise when he mentioned it. That was part of the reason why he’d been so opposed to Damian and Jason taking on Ra’s by themselves, and it was part of the reason why he didn’t want Damian going at all. Ra’s wouldn’t hesitate to kill them both. “No,” he agreed. “Helena’s right. You’re not dying here, Damian. That’s not your future.” He watched as she climbed over the table, something that might have been a smile tugging at his lips before it was gone. As for talking, Bruce knew as well as anyone that he was quite good at dishing out the silent treatment and shutting people out. He fell back easily on withdrawing into himself, allowing hurt and anger to harden into something cold and harsh. “I know I haven’t done very well with keeping this family together,” he admitted. “Communication is important, and I don’t always set a good example.” He paused, looking down at his folded hands and letting out a long exhale before returning his gaze upward. “I want you both to know that doesn’t mean I don’t want... this. A family.” Even if he was doing everything wrong, it wasn’t from a lack of care.
Damian leaned back on the stool as Hels started climbing over the table, knowing full well she was going for a hug and deciding quickly that he would have none of it. But, Damian was weak, especially when it came to his batfamily sisters and he relented the second she got in arms reach of him. It must have been odd for Bruce to see the two of them bond so quickly when Damian had a hard time talking to Bruce with respect, but Helena told people exactly where they stood all the time. That was something Damian could appreciate. He sat up a little to put his arms around her shoulders to return the hug and looked at her with a tiny, tiny smile. Grateful without having to say so. Helena understood Waynes better than most.
“We know you want a family.” Damian said simply, finally turning his attention back to Bruce with clarity finally through his blue eyes. “We all do.” Even if they fought. Even if one day they wouldn’t be able to set aside their differences for good. They all still wanted a family. It was why he left his mother to go live with Grayson and Alfred. He knew they were more family than she could ever be. “But,” Damian backed away from Helena and crossed his arms. Almost defensively. “I have something to tell the both of you. Grayson suggested that I move with him to Bludhaven. I think it’s a good idea. So, I’m doing it.” He wasn’t asking permission or looking for opinions. Damian was past that now.
Most people would have gotten off the table as easily as she had gotten onto it, but Helena wasn't going anywhere. If Bruce wanted the psychological advantage of sitting at the head of the table, she was taking the high ground -- or in this case, the top of the table. Both feet dangled off the abandoned side of the table, one slowly twitching up and down, the other still as she listened to Bruce and then Damian. "Whether you want it or not, you've got it," she said first to Bruce.
It was a good thing he wanted it, if only because it made things easier. They weren't going anywhere and at the rate that the Batfamily was growing -- pretty soon they'd be a colony. Even if they were strewn everywhere around the city. To Damian's announcement she frowned, only because she hadn't really told anyone (except Damian) that she wasn't coming back to Wayne Manor. There was a little roll of her shoulders, like she was stretching the muscles in her back before she glanced at her brother and offered a small, reassuring smile. And though he wasn't looking for permission or opinions, she gave the latter. "I think it's a good idea too, if that's what you need." Now if she could only get him to uncross his arms... The smile went a little cock-eyed as she shamelessly filched his cup of coffee and held it up like she was about to guzzle the contents.
Damian, despite being completely sold on the idea of relocating to a new town with his big brother, appreciated her support. And, Helena didn’t know it, but her own decision to possibly go travel or do things on her own was a slight influence on all of this. Damian wasn’t ten anymore and while he wasn’t ready to go be on his own, he was ready to leave the nest. “Thanks, Hels.” Damian muttered with an appreciative nod and then swatted at her hand as she went for the coffee. “I got you your own damn mug.” He said, full bratty little brother mode as he worked to pry her fingers off one by one. It took a whole five seconds for him to realize he was getting off track and looked over to Bruce for more approval than he wanted to admit. Okay, so maybe the little bird wouldn’t change his mind, but he did want his father to be okay with his decision.
Had Bruce been the sort of man who wore what he felt easily, his surprise at Damian’s announcement would have been visible. Dick hadn’t mentioned anything about wanting to move, but then again, that didn’t surprise him; the two weren’t particularly close. His expression remained consistent, however, carefully blank, as he turned this new bit of information over and over in his mind. Helena gave her approval and her support easily, but that was simply who she was. His mother had been the same. From a logical point of view, Damian’s choice made sense. Dick needed to sort himself out after the Pit, and the and Damian had always been close, closer than he and Bruce would have been even if he was the ‘right one’. Bludhaven was close, hardly a world away, and if this was what Damian needed, what kind of father would he be if he stood in his way? Ordering him not to go wouldn’t stop him; Damian would go regardless. He could refuse, demand that he stay, but that would only sever whatever ties remained between them. No, Damian needed to find his own path, to discover his own truths, and he would still be here when the boy returned. Even if he left temporarily to track down Ra’s, Bruce would never--could never--leave Gotham for good.
“If this is what you need, if it’s what you want, then it’s the right choice,” he said, and his expression became one of acceptance. “You need to do what’s best for you, Damian. The same goes for Dick.” And, admittedly, Bruce was relieved that they would at least be together. He wouldn’t be there to keep an eye on the boy, but Dick would be. They’d be there for each other, and that would have to be enough. His own feelings in this regard didn’t matter. Family, after all, was about putting others before oneself.
“Thank you.” Damian said, letting go of Helena, feeling a wave of relief that this wasn’t going to turn into some kind of you’re not ready fight. Maybe if the baby bird was leaving the nest on his own, the two of them would have reacted differently, but Grayson was there to be a safety net and everyone at the table knew it. He sat back on the stool, suddenly feeling like this whole talk wasn’t necessary but sort of glad it happened anyway. Damian looked up to Helena as if to ask if they needed to say anything else, but didn’t contribute anything more.
This time when Helena reached for a coffee mug, it was her own. Did more need to be said? There was still that itch between her shoulder blades like a conflict that still wasn't settled. Her fingers settled around the rim of the cup, twisting it slowly back and forth as she considered. Was it worth it now? Her gaze flickered back to Damian's and whatever she saw there was answer enough. Both shoulders went back and her spine straightened as she looked away from her brother and to Bruce.
"Why were Damian and Jason making a plan to go after Ra's without you?" She asked, quietly. And as much as it seemed like she was asking about their actions, she was asking about Bruce's too.
While Bruce wasn't quite sure what, if anything, they had managed to resolve, it seemed to him that the conversation had come to a close. Damian and Dick would be off to Bludhaven, and he would go back to managing what was left of the family, fractured as it was, and hunting for Ra's. Life went on. He wasn't expecting Helena to add anything, and he prepared to rise from his chair, a telltale tension in his shoulders giving away his intention of standing. Maybe he should have said something more, something about keeping in touch or even that he would miss him, but he assumed the former was a given and the latter put him in too vulnerable a position.
But then Helena spoke, and it was clear her question had an impact. Damian and Jason's intention to pursue Ra's without him was a sore point, and yes, it had angered him. The one thing he despised above all was when they snuck around behind his back, when they lied to him; a lie of omission was no different. That their plans would never come to fruition was only a small consolation."I don't know," he said, his tone considerably cooler. "That question might be better answered by Damian and Jason themselves."
Damian gave Helena a hard look that wasn’t all that different from when she tried to take a swing of his coffee, but without even a hint of humor. She had to ruin a good ending to all of this, didn’t see? Frowning he shrugged, looking away from both of them. “It doesn’t matter. I tried to find a way to show Jason he was still part of the family without directly including Bruce since they don’t get along. But, it doesn’t matter now. Jason doesn’t trust me. Bruce wants to. I know where my alliances are.”
Spoken like a true Ra’s without Damian realizing it. He had given up on Todd completely in that bratty way a teenager would give his brother the silent treatment for dunking his socks in the toilet or ratting him out for smoking cigarettes. What Damian thought was final and severe was probably just a tantrum, but god help anyone who told him that. Standing up, Damian looked to Helena, expression softening just an inch. “It was a misunderstanding. Though, I think I’m going to take myself out of finding Ra’s. Getting settled into a new city with Grayson is my priority.”
Neither of them got her point -- which was fine, she was going to spell it out for the two Wayne men as her eyes moved back and forth between them. "Why," she said quietly in the face of Bruce's cool anger and Damian's hotheaded frustration, "Were they the first ones to start a plan? Why weren't you actually leading instead of following and trying to stop them in what they'd chosen to do?"
It was a hard question, but it wasn't asked out of cruelty and it wasn't meant to embarrass Bruce either. "You're the head of our family. We need you to be out there leading like you did when the virus was released. It doesn't require you to be our father, or the Batman, but it does require you to do, because if you don't, we're going to go out there and do what you trained us to do. And I know it might not have been you, but it was the you that we know. A you that we've all lost." She turned the cup once more against the surface of the table. "I know you can, I just don't know why you aren't. And I don't know why you doubt us, because we're the ones that are always going to have your back out there. Always. If you don't think we can," she opened her mouth to say more, but shook her head. If he didn't believe in them, what was the point? "If you do think we can, then don't treat us like we can't. It's only going to hurt us and then we'll end up making stupid mistakes in order to prove ourselves."
There was a very sound reason as to why Bruce and Jason were constantly at odds, but he saw no need to point out the obvious. They all knew how he felt about murder, and regardless of Jason’s motivations, he would never and could never approve of his methods. He hardly felt that trying to make Jason feel like ‘part of the family’ was an acceptable reason, nor did he think it was a mere misunderstanding, but arguing about it after the fact was pointless. It was true, at least, that he wanted to trust Damian, but some days were easier than others. One step forward was often followed by two steps back. He sighed and said nothing, however, thinking it wiser to hold his tongue.
But then Helena spoke, asking him why he wasn’t out there leading, and any intention of keeping silent vanished. Bruce felt his patience begin to fray, his last nerve being sorely tested. He was tired of being berated for what he did, for what he didn’t do; nothing was ever enough for them. Be a father, Bruce. Be the Bat, Bruce. Do this, do that, trust us, tell us things, but we won’t trust you, and we won’t tell you anything. Jason treated him as though he was an idiot, Damian hatched foolish plans behind his back, and Edward Nigma had to come to him for help in keeping Stephanie from getting in over her head because she would never ask for it herself. “What I did was prevent them from getting themselves killed,” he said, rising from his chair. “Going after Ra’s on their own was foolish. You and Jason should have realized that, Damian, without me pointing it out for you.” He directed his attention and his words to Damian for a moment, before turning back to Helena. “I am leading. If your Bruce trained you to go behind his back and do what you like in the absence of constant, direct orders, then he was less suited to recruiting others to his cause than I originally thought. I won’t be accused of inaction when all I’ve done is try. Time and time again I’ve made an effort. I’ve made my share of mistakes, yes, and I don’t claim to be perfect, not in the slightest, but I am tired of being made to feel as though I’m constantly at fault. I’m always the one who doubts, and is never doubted. I’m the one who makes you all feel as though you need to prove yourselves, never the one who feels the same.”
They weren’t the only ones who felt hurt, but that was too much for Bruce to admit. He would never go that far. “I don’t doubt that you’re all capable,” he said, after a pause. “But if you expect me to have faith in you, then you need to have faith in me.”
Damian was getting ready to leave before this whole conversation blew up in his face, but he was too late. First there was Helena easily articulating everything she wanted to say as always and then Bruce rummaged up all of their conflict over going after Ra’s. “I could have handled it.” Damian said firmly with a sharpness to his voice that proved he was trying to distance himself from all of this without admitting he made a mistake. “Todd is going to keep killing until we either change his mind or put him behind bars. I thought- I was positive that if he and I went after Ra’s I could make him realize how stupid he’s being.” Damian looked right at Bruce through every word. No fear, the little bird rarely showed that, but a certain amount of pain. Maybe even reluctance.
“And if we needed help, I knew you’d be there. It doesn’t matter. This is why I’m leaving town. I’m tired of having to remember who I can talk to and who is going to ring my neck because I didn’t say enough.” Damian shrugged, giving a sigh that was both young and modern like he had picked it up at college or hanging around the bat family too long. “I’m sorry. I’m too old to be Robin. I’m too old to take orders. And, Selina says I’m not the right person to try and keep this family together. So, maybe she’s right.” He stepped away from the table, picking up his motorcycle helmet from the counter and running his hand over the visor.
“I have faith you can save this city without me. I have faith we’re always going to be a family.” Damian’s gaze moved down to his feet and he wished he could just be ten again. “But, I don’t think this family needs to be a team. I don’t think it can be.” That was the hardest thing for him to say and it nearly got caught in his throat, but he knew his father agreed. Maybe even Hels, deep down. They could help each other, they could come to each other’s rescue, but the chance to make this family a team was over. Stephanie was partners with the Riddler. Todd was back to killing thugs. Grayson was trying to figure out if he could be Nightwing anymore. That time of trying to work as a cohesive team was over. “I have to go. I’ll call from Bludhaven once we’re settled.” Damian took a couple steps out of the kitchen, attention switching to Helena. “I’ll call both of you.” He promised and then practically sprinted out of the kitchen before this could get worse.
Helena watched him go, simultaneously wanting to both hug and throttle her brother. If he felt the need to go, then she wasn't going to drag him back, not yet. Once he was out of eyesight, she spun around on the surface of the table and looked Bruce in the eyes. Sometimes families fought, she knew that better than most, but it felt like something was fractured here and not one of those surface ones that could easily be patched up, but something that went far deeper.
There were so many things that she could say, so many things that probably needed to be said, but she started, as always, with the truth. "Damian might not want to admit it, but he would have gotten hurt if he and Jason had gone after Ra's. The Ghul's already proved that," she said quietly. "And I've never gone behind your back and made plans without you, except for when I first got here and that doesn't count, because I barely knew you then." But once she'd moved into the Manor? Not after that. "We all know you're trying. Or at least, Damian and I do. That's why we keep coming back to you. That's why we keep trying."
She paused, considering, her head tilting to the side. "Do you feel like we doubt you?" She questioned, gently, but as forthright as she always was. "Do you think you need to prove yourself to us?"
Rarely was Bruce as honest as he’d just been, but while he did regret the words there was a certain sense of relief at finally saying what he’d kept buried for so long. There was little doubt in his mind that, however competent Damian and Jason were, any encounter with Ra’s would not have ended well, and he didn’t agree that the two of them going on their own was a good idea. He understood how trying it was, to try to help Jason while he was so resistant to change, but taking him to face Ra’s was not the answer. Some of the tension left his shoulders when Damian apologized, and he rested one palm against the table, leaning forward, and began to speak, but then thought better of it. There was nothing left for him to say, not just then. And, while he might not say it aloud, he did agree that, while always a family, they didn’t work very well at being a team. Maybe Damian was right. Maybe, in this Gotham, they simply weren’t meant to be one. They would be there for each other, but in the end each one of them would act alone and answer only to themselves.
“Be careful.” He spoke too late, the words coming when Damian was already halfway out of the kitchen. Even then, he had to force them out, and afterward Bruce simply wanted nothing more than to be alone, to focus on something else. Anything but this. But Helena was still there, and he couldn’t send her away. Hard as he could be, he wasn’t cruel. “I know,” he admitted, both of Jason and Damian’s likelihood of being hurt and the fact that she’d never done anything behind his back. “The others have. Not always, but they do, and it seems as though whatever progress we back is always set back in one way or another.”
He looked down at the table when she said they knew he was trying, just for a moment, following the swirls of wood before lifting his gaze again. Helena’s questions probed at issues he’d barely discussed with anyone, but he relented after a moment. “Yes.” Why not be honest? The damage was already done. “Not as often as I once did, but yes.”
Bruce could have lied and Hels might have let it slide or called him out on it. The fact that he told the truth, as hard as it appeared to be, was a good thing. They needed to be honest with one another or it didn't matter what they were trying to do -- they would fail. She picked up her coffee mug again, considering her next words carefully. She had no desire to hurt him more, nor to poke hard where he had revealed himself.
The crossroads came again about what to say. Helena couldn't always talk about the others because often she felt like she knew less than Bruce did, but she wasn't going to let him deal with this alone. "What do you want from us?" She asked, not demanding, but in that curious way that didn't speak of anger or hostility, but a simple desire to know. Her feet, still dangling off the edge of the table, began to move again in counterpoint directions.
"If you want us to tell you things," Helena paused and took a sip of her coffee, now cooling but still good. "Then once you get back from finding Ra's, I need to leave. I need some time and there are some of Kara's holdings that I need to probably check on."
There was a question Bruce had asked himself over and over again, and the answer changed constantly. He believed what he wanted from them was unrealistic, unfair, and he didn’t want to hold them to the same standards he believed himself to be held to. He knew, too, that they often felt as though they needed to prove themselves to him, and it was an extreme reversal of roles for him to feel the same way. “I’m not sure,” he said. “You’re trying. I know you are. I suppose what I want is for the fact that I’m not your Bruce to matter less than it does. Less than I think it does,” he amended, as he realized that a great deal of his inadequacy might come from himself and not them at all.
Maybe he should have been expecting Helena to leave as well. It did, admittedly, come as less of a surprise than Damian’s announcement had, but only because he knew she’d been upset after he and Selina had failed to comfort her, and he knew how much she missed both Tim and Kara. Three gone, all within minutes. Even knowing that they would return eventually didn’t lessen the blow, but Bruce wasn’t going to hold her back. Like Damian, she needed to do what was right for her. “Do what you need to,” he told her. “I understand.”
Helena was never sure how often he talked to people like this, where there was just honesty and not him being Bruce Wayne or the Batman, but simply a man named Bruce. She wasn't going to ask either. After all, they all had their own secrets, their ways of dealing with the circumstances they found themselves in day after day. And maybe there were few in his life that he could be wholly honest with, though she couldn't imagine him ever having this particular conversation with Damian.
"I think you have to understand why he matters so much to us," she said quietly. "I wish I could tell you that it doesn't matter that you aren't our Bruce, but I can't. I'd be lying to you if I did. Our Bruces, what they did, who they are, they made us into who we are. And sometimes it was our lack of you that changed us into something else." She didn't know all of Damian's past or Jason's, but she had seen the Red Hood movie with Morgan and she knew that part of it at least. "I think Damian wants you to be his father." Bomb shell, thy name is Helena. "Don't tell him I told you that though."
Before all of this, the only person Bruce had ever confided in was Alfred. Then, when he'd disappeared and not returned, there had been no one, and now it seemed he found it easier to confide in Selina than members of his own family. But not even that was a common occurrence; he usually kept the truth to himself. He was almost always either Bruce Wayne or Batman, rarely just a man.
What he wanted wasn't necessarily what he expected, and so he knew that divide would always be there, the one that existed because he was the wrong Bruce and persisted for the same reason. "I know it matters," he said. "As much as I wish otherwise, I do know that. But I can't change who I am." He suddenly felt very, very tired when she said Damian wanted him to be his father, and he sat back down again with a sigh. "I won't tell him," he said. He did think of Damian as his son, though he didn't seem to have much success being his father despite his best efforts.
It didn't take a detective to see how much that truth weighed on him, not with the sigh and the way he sat. "We know that," Helena said very quietly. At least she thought everyone knew that -- but it wasn't one of the things she was going to split hairs over. Not right now. Regardless of how mad she had been, she didn't want Bruce to actually feel bad. He tried. He kept trying, even when he failed, and she respected both the desire to keep trying and the drive to succeed. "Most of us know an older you, but it's not an insult to you. It means that some point, you do figure this out and you make all our lives better because of it. It means that when you come back to these situations where we needed you -- you can be there."
She left the coffee cup sitting on the surface table as she finally tucked up one leg under the other, her thigh resting on a booted foot. Hels was accustomed to being the hopeful one, the one that tried to make the best out of being shoved through the wormhole that brought her and Kara to a different world and the one that tried to make the best out of being here. It was not working out as well as she thought it would, but like her father and like the man in front of her, she wasn't going to stop trying.
Did they know? Bruce wasn’t always so sure. Any progress he made with Damian seemed to fall apart at the slightest touch, he and Dick could barely manage to remain civil, and Jason was constantly blinded by anger. He didn’t know Cassandra, barely understood Stephanie; sometimes it seemed as though Helena was the only one willing to give him a chance, even if he make mistakes with her as well. “So what you’re saying is, I’ll get it eventually,” he said, trying for--and likely failing at--some semblance of humor.
It was enough of a resemblance to have Helena huffing out a laugh and shaking her head. "Something like that, yes." Her smile turned a bit softer, less wry and more honest. "Before you were the Bat, you were the man. Regardless of what we think we need, we need that first." She paused, one side of her mouth pulling higher than the other. "I think most of us would be shocked to know you laugh and can crack a joke." Hels knew that from her dad, but the Bruce from the movies? She didn't think he ever laughed. "And don't get discouraged when we fight. Even if we're fighting with you. Families do that." There was a pause as she considered, not for the first time, if it might be beneficial for them to all spar together. It might help team dynamics, but right now she thought they might all need their space. However, Bruce was trying. She could do no less. "If at first you don't succeed, just remember, you can always run around in a Batsuit," she added, even managing to remain straight faced for about two seconds after the words came out of her mouth before she laughed.
Bruce could see the logic in that. He wasn’t as young as Selina’s Bat, perhaps, but he wasn’t as old as the Bat the others had known either. Before Batman, he’d merely been Bruce Wayne, though how honest the persona he presented to the world was questionable; in truth, he’d spent the majority of his time alone, shunning society and people in general. But he remembered, still, how to be human. “Is the man enough?” It was a genuine question, and if someone would have asked him, his answer would have been no. Hence why he created the symbol, why he became Batman in the first place. “I’m not very good at it,” he admitted, of being able to laugh and crack jokes. “And I don’t do it often. That might be why.” If there was one thing he’d learned thus far, it was that families fought. Theirs, perhaps, more so than others, considering the fact that he wasn’t on the best of terms with nearly every member. “I’ll do my best not to become discouraged by whatever fighting occurs.” He had a feeling there was only more ahead. Funnily enough, running around in a Batsuit was, in a sense, exactly what he planned to do, and he thought she was serious for a moment before she laughed. He smiled, which was as good as laughter coming from him. “Very true.”
There was that tilt of her head again. Was the man enough? "The man is who you are, beneath the cowl, beneath the Wayne name, beneath all the masks that you put on for the press and society. Everything stems from him. So if he's not enough, but he's gotten you this far not being enough, I'm not sure any of us are ready for when he is." Hels said honestly as she unwound herself from the top of the table and pushed off, legs extending and bending to get them under her again. "Don't be discouraged. I know it's a lot and that we -- can be demanding." Understatement, such an understatement and Hels knew it. "But I think without you, we'd all fall apart." Picking up her cup, she finally drained the contents and went to put it in the sink. Yes, there were servants around who would likely do it if she didn't, but Hels had enough manners to pick up after herself.
"We'll talk later, okay?" And like earlier, she didn't move to hug him as she normally did. Hels didn't feel quite as bad as she had when she walked in, but she wasn't ready for that again. Yet.
Bruce had almost lost sight of the man Helena spoke of once, beneath the masks and the name and the wealth. It was easier, when he was on his own, to forget who he really was, to become consumed by the Bat entirely; having a family had prevented that. But family complicated things at the same time, creating a divide who he was and who he felt he was supposed to be. Yes, he’d come a long way, but he didn’t seem to be doing very well in keeping his family together. “I’d like to think you’re right,” he admitted, of the family falling apart without him. “But I’m not sure the family hasn’t fallen apart already.” Maybe, once everyone had accomplished whatever they needed to accomplish by following their respective paths, they could find each other again, and be all the stronger for it. He almost told her to leave the mug, since someone would have eventually done it for her, he let it be in the end. He moved amidst the servants, an enigma; he smiled, and said good morning, good night, but he wasn’t close to any of them. Alfred had been his one true confidante, more of a second father than a butler, but Alfred was gone, and Bruce had long since stopped waiting for him to return.
He had done more talking in the past half hour or so than he had done in years, but he smiled and nodded. “We’ll talk later,” he agreed. If later ever came, before she went to travel and he went to hunt down a madman.