The Way Back #13

Wonder Girl peered over the wall of crates and ducked as a laser gun fired. "You okay?" she asked the green-skinned girl next to her.

Miss Martian nodded. "I should be." She sounded disgusted. "It's just..." she closed her eyes, "wearing a force field might protect me from fire, but not from my fear of it. I can smell the smoke from outside."

"You were fine when we had the cookout, our last night in San Francisco," Wonder Girl said thoughtfully. "I mean, you weren't sitting near the grill, but the smoke didn't really faze you." She rose again, cried out in surprise, and held up her forearms to deflect an incoming blast.

"That fire was under control," M'gann protested as Cassie slid back down.

"I know. But can't you pretend this smoke is also from a barbecue? A big one?"

Miss Martian seemed to think it over. Her jaw hardened. "I can do something about the lasers, at least," she said grimly. Her eyes glowed red. She spun about, rose, and targeted one of the large robots. "Match them in kind!"

Wonder Girl smiled. "Well, alright!" she whispered. Then louder, "Cover me!" as she took to the air.

She hoped the ground team would arrive shortly, but the situation was nowhere near as dire as it had appeared a moment ago.

"Harrier! Come in! What's going on?" Oracle slammed her hand down on her desk in frustration. "Air Team's secured their position and is able to lend a hand. Do you need it? Answer!"

She shook her head. "No cameras I can interface with inside the building," she muttered. "I hate this."

"I should be out there with them," Kid Devil said. "I could even the odds." Then he grimaced. "I mean, if I still had my powers. Only I don't. So I guess I have to keep helping them this way instead." He gestured toward his work station. "It's not the same."

"Hey," Oracle was smiling. "At least you'll probably be back out there with them, one night. That's more than I can say."

Eddie blinked. He'd never thought about it before, but somehow he had a feeling that… "You haven't always been… support personnel, have you?"

"I used to be Batgirl." Seeing his stunned expression, she shook her head, still smiling. "It was a long time ago. I'm past that, now." Her smile dimmed. "Mostly. When I'm not stuck here, wondering what the heck is happening, feeling blind as a…" She flipped open the channel again.

"Ground team, can anyone read? Answer, damn it!"

"Maybe they're just in the middle of a fight and can't answer," Kid Devil pointed out.

Oracle sighed. "I know that's probably it," she agreed. Her shoulders slumped. "But I hate not being sure." She turned to face him. "And yes, like you, I do want to just go barreling in there and save the day like I used to, but instead I'm back here, running data and—"

"Oracle! Now would be a great time to get the Air Team down to the second floor!" Harrier's voice broke in.

"Relaying," Oracle responded smoothly, all business. Once done, she closed the channel. "If he comes back from this in one piece, I may kill him."

Eddie shook his head. "The team's unbalanced enough, as it is. You kill him, that makes me the only guy with three gi…" he stopped. "Three… gorgeous… girls." He cleared his throat. "Did you know he's allergic to mugwort?"

"How'd it go with Bruce tonight?" Barbara asked later.

Dick sighed. "Better. And worse. So, pretty much what I expected."

"He's second-guessing you?" Barbara shook her head sympathetically.

"Not exactly. But he wants to. And you want to know something?" Dick closed his eyes. "Part of me really wishes he would. As much as I told him this would only—could only work if we agreed that I was in charge, the fact that he's going along with it just feels..." He sighed again. "I think I miss..." He broke off. "No. That's not it. I don't miss fighting with him. But I'm used to it. It's... I keep bracing myself for one of his controlled explosions or... or..."

"Sulks?"

That got a faint smile. "You make him sound like a five-year-old."

"When he's not in control," Barbara pointed out, "that's how he acts sometimes."

"And he's deliberately given me control." He frowned. "Does that mean that he's controlling the fact that he isn't in..." He exhaled. "I'm giving myself a headache."

Barbara clucked sympathetically. "Poor baby," she teased. "Come here." She pulled him down and kissed his forehead. "Things will look better in the morning," she said with a smile.

"I hope so," he said sleepily.

"I know so." Her smile broadened. "Titans did good tonight. So did Cass."

"They made the collar?"

"They recovered the diamonds, and the Ghost Dragons are cooling their heels down at Central. Still need to nail whoever's been managing their operations, though."

Dick nodded. "Still..." he stifled a yawn.

"Get some sleep," Barbara ordered good-naturedly. "I'll be there in a little bit."

He was about to argue, when another yawn seized him—one he couldn't suppress. "Okay. 'Night."

Barbara watched him go. Then, she turned on her interface with the main Bat cave. As she'd expected, Bruce was there, doing push-ups. His face was set in a fixed grimace and perspiration beaded his brow and darkened his singlet. As she watched, his arms buckled and he fell to the floor with a gasp.

"Get some rest, Bruce," she whispered sympathetically, knowing that he couldn't hear her. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

"You're in a good mood, today," Alex remarked as Bruce sat down.

Bruce nodded. "I've been working out. It's been relaxing."

"Understandable," Alex nodded back. "I was going to suggest it, myself, except..." he paused, then added candidly, "I've noticed that suggesting you try something usually has you looking for reasons not to."

Bruce frowned at that, but mentally conceded the point. "How long do you expect me to keep the fish?"

Alex blinked. "Well, there's no set time limit on it. How are they doing, anyway?" he asked.

Bruce shrugged. "I lost one. The others are fine, I suppose. I just don't see how keeping them is supposed to be helping me. And before you start," he added, "I'm familiar with the theories behind the therapy. I just don't see how they apply to me in this case."

Alex thought for a moment. "Keep the fish, for the moment," he said. "You don't have to replace them if they die off, as long as you have... it's still zebra danios, right?" At Bruce's nod, he went on. "You told me you have a 60-gallon tank... Alright. There's no harm in letting the fish have more space than they strictly require. As long as you have a minimum of six of them at any time, that's fine. We can review this again, down the road."

Bruce nodded, impressed despite himself. Alex was clearly familiar with the species and its requirements. Of course, he reminded himself, zebra danios were a common enough species, and one of the hardier tropical fish. Alex probably had many patients who had opted for them. He wished he hadn't let Dick and Jim talk him out of the piranhas.

"For now," Alex said, "I'd like to try something a bit different. If you'll indulge me..."

"So, what's wrong with that?" Selina wanted to know.

Bruce stared at her. "It's the most ridiculous, asinine, juvenile... pap... I've ever heard of."

"Spoken like someone who's never browsed the New Age or self-help sections of Boundaries or Shedds & Kingly." She smirked for a moment, then sobered. "Seriously, Bruce, how bad can it be?"

Bruce sighed. "Here," he fished the list out of his inner pocket. "See for yourself."

She took it. "Keep an eye on Helena," she warned. "You wouldn't believe the kind of mischief she can get into if you don't watch her."

"She's over by the fish," Bruce said absently.

"I see her. That doesn't mean that in the next five minutes she won't be trying to catch them, eating their food, or exploring the rest of the... manor. Close the door, please, Bruce, before she starts wandering." She unfolded the paper.

"Nine principles to master happiness and joy?" she read aloud.

"You see?" Bruce shut the door firmly. "It's idiotic."

She looked up at him, her expression enigmatic. "Did you actually read it over?"

Bruce scowled.

Selina sighed. "Look. Just try it. I promise I won't tell the paparazzi. Here. The first one is 'I think appreciatively and gratefully. What am I grateful for now?'" She cocked her head. "Bruce?" After a moment's silence, she took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm grateful you're out. I'm grateful to be back in Gotham. I'm grateful that you're still willing to have me in your life." She smiled. "Your turn."

"This is pointless."

"Do it anyway."

Bruce sighed. "I'm... grateful that my family has stood by me all this time. I'm grateful that some of the people who... left... have come back. I..." his voice trailed off. "What's the next item?"

"This one is just an affirmation, no question attached: 'I speak and act joyfully and kindly'."

Bruce snorted.

"Don't sell yourself short, Handsome. I admit it hasn't happened that often, but it has happened." Her eyes moved down the list. "I assume there is a benefit. What's good about this?"

"Well," Bruce said slowly, "at least you seem to be enjoying it. I wouldn't call that 'bad'." At her raised eyebrow, he sighed. "I suppose it's not that different from various techniques I've employed for meditation or stress management. I can see that a list like this may have applications relevant to problem-solving..."

"Fish!" came a delighted squeal. "Hi, fish! Hi!" A pudgy hand slapped the glass of the aquarium. "Fishy! Lookame!"

"Helena!" Selina thrust the list into his hand and raced to scoop up her daughter. "No. Don't scare the fish, Honey. Here, look." Her voice softened. "Look, don't touch. One fish, two fish..."

"Re' fish! B'u fish!"

"Very good!" Selina laughed. "Except these are blaaaack, and sil-ver. Can you say 'black'?"

"Back."

"Good! And 'sil-ver'?"

Bruce smiled and glanced back to the sheet of paper in his hand. 'I strive for meaningful goals. What's my goal for now?' To finish this exercise. To get one attack past Dick's guard and know that he didn't simply allow it. To eliminate the need for constant supervision. No. That would be a long-term goal. To increase my unsupervised time. He walked over to the desk to get a pen and paper. He needed to write some of this down...

Jim closed the master bedroom door with a feeling of satisfaction. He'd grown used to hearing Bruce talk in his sleep, or, more correctly, to hearing Bruce moan and cry out in his sleep. Tonight, though, it was different. For the first time since he'd moved into the manor, Jim reflected, Bruce's dream didn't appear to be a nightmare. He smiled to himself, and padded down to the kitchen for a pot of herbal tea.

"Sir! Sir, wait! What did I say?"

Bruce didn't look back. He simply jerked his head toward the door. "We're leaving," he said to Jim.

Out on the street, Jim turned to him. "What was that about?"

Bruce was livid. "I don't have to stand there while some jo... clow..." He broke off abruptly, "while some comedian thinks he can get away with making subtle digs at... Never mind. There's another pet supply store a few doors down."

Jim sighed. "You want to tell me exactly what he said to you?"

"It's not important."

"I'd tend to agree," Jim said as he leaned against a storefront, "if this wasn't the third shop you'd stormed out of. Are you sure you weren't reading too much into things?"

Bruce shook his head.

"I don't suppose the persona you're adopting is supposed to be a jerk?" His eyes narrowed.

"No!" Bruce blinked. "Wait. That... that can't be right."

Jim waited for elaboration. It didn't take long.

"There is no way that all three of them saw through the disguise. I might accept one—if he had a good ear for voices—but all three... It doesn't add up."

The former police commissioner sighed. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

Bruce shook his head. "I'm not sure what there is to talk about." He took a deep breath. "Fine. I found an attendant. I told him I was looking for fish that would be compatible with the zebra danios I already have. He asked me about the temperature of the tank, the ph-level, the water chemistry..."

"So far, so good," Jim nodded. "And?"

"And he suggested harlequins and clown loaches!"

Jim's eyebrows shot up. All at once, he smiled. "And you thought that meant... Oh, no!" He chuckled. The chuckle became a full-blown laugh. "Oh, this is..." He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure. "Bruce, they're common community fish. Trust me. Your secret is safe."

Bruce felt his face grow hot. "I thought..." he mumbled, embarrassed.

"I know what you thought. Come on. Let's go to that other store you haven't been in, yet. Try not to scare the staff, this time." He clapped a hand to the younger man's shoulder. "Look. Even smart people make silly mistakes, sometimes." He took a deep breath. "If you ever mention this in Barbara's presence, she will know how you found out and things will not bode well for either of us."

They walked a few steps in silence before Bruce prompted him. "Jim?"

"When Barbara was about twelve, she was invited to a classmate's birthday party. Now when you're twelve, at least, this was true for Barbara, it's an age where you want to appear rather... grown up. So, when she went to pick out a birthday present, she took herself down to Killinger's and bypassed the toy department entirely, in favour of the main floor."

Bruce knew the layout. "Jewelry, ladies' handbags and accessories, perfumes, bath... I'm... not seeing the problem."

Jim sighed. "I dropped her off at the main doors and told her I'd be back to pick her up. When she got back into the car, I knew something was wrong. She... well, your performance in the last store reminded me of her, just then. See... she'd gone to the perfume counter to ask about a suitable birthday present for a twelve-year-old." He smiled. "And the saleswoman suggested toilet water."

He couldn't stop his guffaw. "Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes!"