Murder at Wayne Manor

Chapter 5

Wayne Manor; May 2nd, 03:27 EST

The sound of the engine's roar reverberates off the cave walls as I race down the hidden entrance. Usually coming home after a night's patrol brings me some small amount of comfort and relief knowing that I can escape into my secret sanctuary hidden beneath brick and rock and dirt. Tonight, however, I feel no sense of peace, though true peace has eluded me since I was an eight-year-old boy.

Parking the Batmobile on the platform, I turn the engine off only to sink back into my seat and close my eyes for a moment. The night had been long and difficult, overshadowed once more by an unseen monster that I know is there, but I just can't wrap my hands around it.

I try my best to calm the fury swarming inside of me like a beehive, vibrating with a frantic need to unleash an attack. I want to drive my fists into the dashboard, but wrecking my car isn't going to fix what happened tonight nor will it make it any better. Besides, I'd just repaired the damage that I'd caused to the middle console two weeks ago when I'd lost my temper.

Releasing a slow breath, I finally get out of my car. Pulling my cowl off, I allow it to hang down my back as I make my way through the cave. I hope that J'onn and Diana are both asleep upstairs. I'm definitely not in the mood to talk and anything I might say to anyone now would likely result in me picking my teeth up off the ground...especially if it's a certain Amazon.

I know all too well how to push her buttons and I have a tendency to push them extra hard, especially when I'm pissed. To say that I'm frustrated would be a gross understatement. Anyone who gets in my way tonight will end up a casualty of my rage.

I rip my gloves off and toss them on top of a large crate of equipment that just arrived last week for the new Watchtower; one I have yet to unpack. I can already sense that Diana is still awake and awaiting my return. Her scent permeates my cave and, for once, it does nothing to settle me in the least.

I grind my teeth as a scowl easily slips into place. I don't want to see her let alone talk to her. She'll only try to get me to talk about what happened tonight, try to make me feel better, but I don't want to feel better. I want to beat something, want to wallow in my anger and guilt and be left alone. That's how I've always dealt with a bad night on patrol, locking myself away in my cave to brood and plot and plan out a new approach for the next night.

Most people should know better than to talk to me when I'm like this and, while Diana doesn't entirely understand that concept yet, she's about to find out the hard way. I unexpectedly find myself actually relishing a verbal clash with the Amazon as I catch a glimpse of her raven mane. We're already famous for our heated arguments among the founders, both too stubborn to back down in a fight.

Heading towards the showers, I pause for a moment to watch her working at a large work table. She is still wearing her glasses from her day job, no doubt having forgotten that she is even wearing them, but gone is the business suit and in its place are form-fitting workout clothes, her raven hair pulled back into a ponytail.

She bites at her bottom lip as she scribbles some notes about something or another. She mumbles something to herself in Greek, but she's too far away for me to hear what she is actually saying. I can guess what it was by her expression and the fact that she furiously begins erasing what she wrote only to write something else in its place.

I wonder if she even realizes that I'm there, but I find it hard to believe she didn't hear the loud roar of the Batmobile's arrival home. I consider slipping past her and into the showers to avoid the possibility of a broken jaw, but I do like to live dangerously and, besides that, I want to fight. I want to vent my anger and I don't really care who I take it out right now.