The Wayne Name

Chapter Three: Flesh of my Flesh

Chapter Three:

Bruce sat in the cafeteria, staring out the space station window at the stars; his mask lying forgotten beside him. The cafeteria was empty, what with everyone sleeping or working so early in the morning. He however, couldn't even imagine sleeping after what he had heard. Here his mother was alive in front of him... yet she didn't know him, she knew Clark better than she did him, and... yet it wasn't his mother at all. It was that Bruce's, Connors, and Richards.

He snorted, the very idea of being the brother of Richard versus being his father nearly laughable.

"Can I join you?" a voice asked.

He glanced up at Diana who was watching him with clear concern.

"It's open," he replied coldly.

She said nothing as she sat down and stared out the window with him.

"I am sure that was hard on you."

"She isn't my mother," he replied in a whisper.

"No," Diana agreed, "She isn't, but... she is, also."

Batman sighed.

"Can you imagine me and Clark being brothers?" he asked, trying for a slight humor.

Diana giggled.

"Maybe a bit, but I think you would have killed each other."

Bruce grinned just slightly.

"Yeah, I think you would be right. Good thing I'm dead than, huh?"

Diana sobered with that thought.

"Bruce..."

"No. It's nothing. It is just... odd."

She nodded in understanding and knew if she pushed him for more, he would only turn away from her.

"You think she will be okay?" Diana asked instead.

He glanced at her with a cocked eyebrow. "Who? White? She should be."

"She seemed... unable to breathe easily."

"Probably an effect of the time travel," he replied, "no doubt her body needs to recover."

Diana was silent as Bruce sipped his coffee.

"I thought I might find you both here," Clark's voice echoed across the room.

Bruce sighed and Diana smiled.

Superman came bounding over and happily plopped down beside Batman.

"So, brothers huh?" he grinned.

Bruce just rolled his eyes as Diana laughed.

JLA

Bruce stepped into the medical room and stared again at the sleeping woman. Slowly he reached into his belt and pulled out the ring. He studied it again before gently placing it in her right hand that lay palm up on the bed. As he turned to leave, a soft hand suddenly touched his armored hand.

"Wait, please," she whispered.

He turned to her, his eyes looking into her own.

"I must know... who are you?"

Bruce hesitated. He hated the idea of telling anyone his identity, but this woman... she was... so much harder. Would she accept him? Reject him? Hate him? Love him? Would she even care when she knew who he was.

"Please," she whispered again.

He sighed. He could hardly say no.

Slowly, he lifted his cowl, allowing her to see the truth. His stern features, strong chiseled chin, piercing sky blue eyes, and that black as night hair that so many woman always seemed to want to run their hands through.