Chapter Nine:

Promises

"Oh my God, Mrs. Kent!" Lois cried out frantically once the realization that their attackers had fled settled into her brain. Rushing towards Martha. Lois clambered over the wreckage left behind in the aftermath of their encounter with Valerie and her murderous companions. The sight of Martha lying there on the floor of the Kent home, her blood seeping into the floor from the multiple slashes inflicted upon her by Mad Harriet ratcheted her growing panic up another notch.

Around them, the effect of Kara's heat vision had left crisscrossing trails of fire across the walls of the Kent home. The house was filling up with smoke as the fires ignited ruined furniture and other flammable debris. The curtains were ablaze and the flames had spread across the ceiling, peeling paint and shattering light fixtures.

"We've got to get them out of here!" Lois stated the obvious as she skidded to her knees next to Martha.

"I'll see to the child," Diana replied calmly, already striding towards the young blond girl who was lying on the floor where she'd fallen. Kara did not appear conscious but she continued to twitch from the effects of the energy weapon Valerie had used to try and subdue her.

Why she's still a child, Diana thought, looking at the young face streaked with tears and dirt. The girl's state provoked Diana’s sense of outrage, exacerbated by the fact that this violence was inflicted upon the child by other women. It seems that the females of the Patriarch's World were just as capable of ruthless behavior as their male counterparts. Examining Kara's condition, Diana frowned at the girl's erratic pulse.

"She needs help immediately," Diana declared. Her gaze swept across the burning house and she knew they were was little time to waste. The fire was intensifying and while she and Kara could probably survive the heat, Lois and Kal's mother would not. They had to leave. "Lois, you must leave this house I will attend to Kara and Mrs. Kent.”

Lois wanted to protest but Diana was right. The Amazon could pick both of them with one hand and then some. Diana was already striding forward, having hoisted Kara over her shoulder, ready to collect Martha as well. Lois glanced at the older woman, struggling to maintain her composure. Martha was the closest thing Lois had to a mother in her life, not since her own had passed away when she was little girl. The place she occupied in Lois' heart was almost as important as the one Clark held. Lois couldn't bear to lose Martha, not this way.

"Mrs. Kent," she spoke, trying not to break down at the woman's grey pallor or the sight of all that blood. "We're going to get you help. You're going to be okay. I promise."

Perhaps it was the desperation in Lois' voice that lured Martha back from the fugue of pain and disorientation that had her in its grip. Turning towards Lois, lucidity allowed Martha to ride the fear for her two girls back to consciousness.

"Kara!" Martha exclaimed with a gasp which then subsided into a groan because awareness brought with it the full sensation of pain. "Where's Kara?"

"She is safe Mrs. Kent," Diana assured the injured woman. Gesturing to Lois to step aside, Diana bent her knees long enough to sweep Martha off the floor with her free arm before straightening up again. The fire around them was gaining ferocity and Diana knew they had to leave before smoke and heat harmed the two mortals in her charge. These were the most important people in Kal's life and Diana would die before seeing them further endangered.

"Lois, we must go.” She insisted.

Lois nodded, aware of the same urgency. Turning away reluctantly, she made her way across the floor, skipping over flaming pieces of debris, trying to ignore the anguish of seeing the Kent home burn in this way. She caught a lung full of smoke as she approached the front door and coughed as she opened the door to step outside. Smoke was filling up the house and the flames had spread across the roof and along the staircase.

Lois’ eyes stung as she clutched the arm that Lashina had injured with the lash from her whip. Her arm felt useless with pain as she winced having to let go of it to open the door. Stumbling through the doorway, Lois was only a few steps ahead of Diana when she felt the familiar gust of wind across her face that immediately compelled her to search the sky.

Clark landed in the middle of the walkway leading to the front door. His expression darkened with worry as he scanned the inside of the house and saw was transpiring within it. Without thinking twice, he raced forward, his super speed making him invisible to the naked eye. He zoomed through the house with such speed that the wake from the acceleration was so fierce it started blowing out some of the flames. What was not snuffed by this action was extinguished when he exhaled a lungful of super cool breath over the fire. In seconds, the fire was but all gone and Clark let out a sigh of relief to see that the damage from the flames at least, was superficial. He could fix that.

However, it was the damage to his mother gripped him with fear the most.

In less time than it had taken for Diana to reach the safety of the garden where she had set Martha down on a patch of grass, Clark was at their side surrounded by his mother's yellow roses. He'd dealt with the house on instinct but now that he had time to properly take in the situation, the fear that had been held in abeyance by need for immediate action against the fire, exerted itself to full effect.

Lois saw the panic on his face as he realized the extent of Martha's injuries and then hers. She closed the gap between them in two clumsy steps before throwing her arms around him, trying to assure him that she was fine at least and to feel his arms around her too. She needed to tell him that to tell her that everything was going to be alright. Clark was the one person she didn't feel she need to be strong for because, he could hold his own and often reciprocated.

"Lois," he kissed her mouth and then pulled back to examine his injury. "You're hurt..." he said, his brow wrinkling with concern.

"I'm fine," she assured him, "but your mom...." Lois could finish.

Mom. His stomach hollowed as he brushed past her, dropping down the ground where Diana had set Martha and Kara. "Mom!" he gasped, seeing the blood, seeing nothing but the blood. Suddenly, he was a little boy again, terrified for her during those moments when he'd advertently done something with his powers that he hadn't intended.

"She needs care immediately Kal," Diana explained as she examined Martha's injuries with an experienced eye and then glanced at Lois. "They both do. The little one," she indicated Kara, "is merely stunned. I do not believe she's permanently damaged."

"I'll get her to a hospital," Clark declared, preparing to take Martha so that he could fly her to Smallville Medical Centre. Like Lois, all he could see was the blood.

"Clark you can't," Lois said grabbing his arm, thinking far more rationally than he at the moment.

"What do you mean I can't?" he turned to her sharply.

"Clark, it’s not going to take people to figure out your relationship if you take her there," Lois pointed out. "Think it through Smallville."

He opened his mouth to protest but then shut it because he knew she was right. How many times had Martha and her son appeared at Smallville Medical Centre over the years for one calamity or another? While Superman remained a Metropolis fixture with no connection to this community, no one would connect him to Martha Kent of Smallville. However, if he were to bring Martha to the hospital, it wouldn't be hard for someone to make the leap that Superman possessed more than a passing resemblance to Martha's handsome son Clark.

Someone like Lex, he thought bitterly.

"Let me take your mother and the child to Themiscyra Kal," Diana spoke up offering an alternative upon seeing Kal's fear. Once again she was reminded of what Bruce had once said of the Kryptonian, that for all his powers Kal's greatest weakness was his heart. It was a trait she rather loved him for. "With the sandals of Hermes I can make a journey quickly and while your mother heals, she and Kara will have nothing to fear from your enemies. It will give you the time to deal with them."

"But..." Clark started to say, torn between his sense of duty to his family and the truth of Diana's words.

"Smallville," Lois put her hand on his cheek to make him look at her. "You know Diana is right about this. No one can get to your mom or Kara on Themiscyra and we need to deal with Valerie. Clark, as long as she knows your secret, we're all in trouble."

Clark blinked, his jaw tightening as he made the decision, seeing Martha lying there, all bloody and wounded. He knelt down and took his mother’s hand in his, lifting the bruised knuckle to his lip and planting a soft, tender kiss. He felt Lois' hand on his shoulder.

"Mom..." he spoke quietly, hating the fact that he had to leave her to someone else, even if that someone was Diana. “Diana is going to take care of you and Kara. I'll make it safe for both of you to come home soon, I promise."

Even though she seemed out of it, Martha managed to open her eyes and look her son in his, "I know you will sweetheart." Her voice was soft and strained but it still bore that tender edge that had the power to make any terrible thing seem distant. "I believe in you."

And just like when he was a kid, when Martha said it, he believed it. She had taught him to soar long before he realized he could fly.

"Take care of them," Clark said choking with emotion, “please."

"You have my word that they will be well cared for," Diana replied kindly, understanding how hard this was for Kal. "Tell Bruce I will return as soon as I can."

"I will," Clark nodded and watched as Diana launched herself off the ground into the Kansas sky. He and Lois watched until there was nothing left to see before he turned to her and swept her up in his arms.

"Let's get you taken care of Lane," Clark replied, kissing her on the forehead before he took the skies.

If he couldn't be there for Martha and Kara, he could be there for Lois.

******

The moon was high in the night sky and the glow of it illuminated the drainpipe that ran from the top of the wall, alongside of his window and then all the way to the ground below. It looked not much thicker than the poles he used to shimmy up and down at the circus and beneath his window there was grass, not hard saw dust if he fell. Of course, he didn't think he'd fall. In fact, he know he wouldn't. Heights didn't scare him and he really needed to take a chance.

Mr. Wayne and Mr. Alfred were awful nice. Mr. Alfred made great hot cocoa and Mr. Wayne spoke to him without sounding like all the grownups who kept saying they knew what he was feeling when Dick knew for a fact that they didn't. They couldn’t. How could they know unless they had watched their mom and die the way he had. At bedtime, he waited until Mr. Wayne had said goodnight and left the room before he’d climbed out of the covers again. Mr. Wayne had left the small bedside lamp on, something Dick was grateful for because he was unaccustomed to sleeping in the dark. The light from the campervan he shared with his mom and dad often spilled into the space that passed for his room after bedtime.

He’d gotten dressed as quietly as an eight year old boy could manage, shedding a few short tears when he tried to tie his sneakers and realized he normally had his mom’s help with this little task. He wore his favorite red sweatshirt, the one with the hood that his dad said made him look like Robin Hood.

Once dressed, Dick went to unlatched the clasp that sealed the window and climbed onto the sill. He stood at the edge for a moment, taking in the distance from the window to the drainpipe he intended to reach. The distance was one he had easily traversed before. Taking a few steps along the narrow ledge, his small feet made a short running start before launching himself off the masonry into the air.

Dick latched onto the drainpipe with ease and once his grip was secured, shimmied down the length of the aluminum until he reached the grass beneath his window. Once there, he swept his gaze across the ground and felt a pang of guilt at running off like this. Mr. Wayne and Mr. Alfred were really nice and they’d given him a home away from all the noise of the photographers and foster care. However, Dick needed to go back to the circus, he needed to see where it happened and understand why his mom and dad were dead.

For the last two days, it was all he could think of. Why they’d fallen. They never fell. Not even in practice. Something had gone wrong but his young mind could not conceive of what that could be. All he knew as he had to see where they’d fallen and maybe, maybe he could make sense of it. Driven by that singular need, Dick Grayson found himself walking across the grounds of Wayne Manor, heading towards the main highway. It didn’t occur to him in the slightest that he was a little kid wandering about a night, intending to hitch a ride into town.

It never occurred to him that his escape hadn’t gone unnoticed.

******

Bruce had seen him go of course.

The grounds of Wayne Manor were under constant surveillance from the cave and Bruce had been debating whether or not Batman would make his way into Gotham tonight when he saw Dick sneaking away into the night. Until that moment, it didn’t feel right to Bruce to simply leave while Dick was here in case he was needed during the course of the night. The child’s emotional wounds were still raw and Bruce wanted to be there for him the way that Alfred had been. There was also the little matter of Valerie Beaudry’s resurgence to keep in mind. However, all that changed when he saw Dick moving across the CCTV screen.

It required no clairvoyance for Bruce to know where Dick was going. In his place, Bruce would be doing the same thing. Getting into costume, he followed the child at a discreet distance in the car in stealth mode. Even while he was considering whether or not he should retrieve Dick who was a minor wandering about after dark, he found himself admiring the child’s nerve. The boy had crossed the expansive grounds of the Wayne estate, made his way to the main road where he walked until a passing truck gave him a ride into town. He’d done all this with no hesitation or fear. He was courageous to the point of recklessness.

Bruce kept the vehicle in sight at all times and wasn’t surprised when he saw the eighteen wheeler letting the boy off a block away from the showground where Haly’s Circus was located. Leaving the car in a nearby alley, Bruce made his way there. He knew that the police investigation was keeping the circus in Gotham but there would be no further performances after the last one had ended so badly. Like most circuses, its performers had become family and the tragic loss of John and Mary Grayson had left them in a state of shock and mourning.

How different it was, Bruce thought as he approached the big top. Two nights ago, this was a place of laughter, wonder and excitement. It had been a jewel under a canopy of stars with performers, visitors, celebrities enjoying the carnival atmosphere together. Now the place was bathed in the indigo light of mourning. Gone were the crowds and the colorful tents with their sideshow acts. No shooting galleries, ring tosses or fortune tellers to tempt the punters. The air was crisp and cold, devoid of the aroma of buttered popcorn, roasting peanuts and candy floss.

In the near distance, he could see the faint lights emanating through the windows of campervans belonging to circus folk. In a few days, they’d be moving on to another town, trying to overcome their losses after Gotham. It was unlikely Dick would be going with them. Even if Bruce wasn’t planning on opening his home to the boy, he doubted any judge would allow Dick to remain with the circus without family.

It was bad enough the boy had lost his parents, he was also going to lose the only world he’d ever known.

******

To ensure the scene was not contaminated, the sawdust covered ground where his parents had landed after their fall was sectioned off by yellow police tape. Two police flags, left behind by crime scene technicians, marked the spot where the bodies had been. Not that he needed the flags to know that. Dick found himself turning away from the sight of dry blood that was now a brown stain. More than his youthful mind could cope with, he looked up instead to the trapeze board where he and his parents were perched only days before. The board had a second home to him and without John and Mary, Dick knew he’d never wanted to go up there again.

Only one flybar was remained suspended from the ropes and wires that supported their act and it took a moment for Dick to realize that the second one wasn't there because it had broken when mom and dad had fallen. The police probably had it now, wrapped up in plastic in some evidence locker, like in CSI, he thought. He studied the apparatus that had made up their act, the trapeze board, the flybar, the ropes and wires, trying to understand how it could happened. Mom and dad were so careful, they had taught him to always check the equipment because their lives depended on it.

He needed to know how it had happened because the performance that night was important, his dad had said so. John Grayson simply would not have been so careless on such an important show. Rolling the question around his head, Dick found no answers. The frustration made him exhale loudly, disintegrating into a sob as he sank to the sawdust in the middle of the centre ring. Fresh tears came as the young boy sat there in the dim light, seemingly alone in despair.

"You shouldn't be here." A voice startled him by suddenly speaking.

Dick sprang to his feet in fright, wiping his eyes hastily as he swung around to face the intruder in his private moment of grief. He expected it to be a policeman or one of the circus folk but what stood in front of him was neither and robbed Dick of all speech.

Even as he stood in the shadows, Dick saw powerfully broad shoulders that held a dark sweeping cape pooling around the man's feet. Where the cape ended at the man's neck was a mask and cowl that covered his face, leaving only his jaw and mouth visible. Pointed ears stood above the cowl and with a flash of insight, Dick suddenly realized who he was talking to.

Batman! This was Batman! Dick had read the comic books and had even seen an artist's rendering of the hero in the newspaper since no photographer had managed to snap a picture of the crime fighter. It was him and while the picture had looked scary and inhuman, the man in front of him didn’t look scary but rather awesome in his dark costume.

"You're him?" Dick managed to stutter. "You're...you're Batman?" He declared a little excited despite the tragedy he had suffered.

Bruce answered with a slight nod, his lips curling a little at the expression of awe and wonder. He so rarely unveiled himself to people and even more infrequently to children. Unlike Clark, he didn't play well to the public and preferred the shadows to carry out his crusade. The people he did reveal himself to, probably wished he hadn’t.

"It’s late, you shouldn't be here." Bruce repeated himself, though his voice was lacking the usual intimidation he used to address criminals. It still wasn't Bruce Wayne's voice though.

Dick shifted uncomfortably, his eyes showing his childish guilt at being caught when they couldn't hold the Batman's gaze. "My mom and dad...they fell from up there." He said instead, trying to explain as he glanced at the traitorous trapeze board.

"I know," Bruce said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"They never fall," Dick returned, staring down as he ground one foot in the sawdust. "My dad would make sure it was safe, he wouldn't let us do the show if it wasn't." Dick insisted, uncertain if he was trying to convince Batman or himself.

Beneath the mask, Bruce considered his next words carefully. The boy looked so fragile and it wouldn't take much to shatter the strength that had carried him this far. However, Bruce also knew the grief that had brought Dick here and how it would get worse if he didn't get the answers he needed. His own grief had driven Bruce to the inevitable destiny of the Bat and he wanted to spare Dick that, wanted the boy to live a life that wasn't steeped in blood and violence.

That night, Gordon hadn’t tried to shield the truth from him, even if Jim was better at delivering it better than he. However, instinct told Bruce that Dick could be strong and brave enough to handle it. He'd left the house in the dead of night and gotten all the way here from Wayne Manor, proving not only his determination but resilience. Making a decision, Bruce decided to take the gamble that Dick could handle the truth.

“They didn’t fall Dick,” Bruce spoke finally, watching the boy's reaction for any sign of fracture.

However, Dick merely raised his head and met the Batman's gaze directly, unflinching. Whether or not it was the shadows under the big top, something dark crept into the boy's features and his blue eyes looked grey as if storm clouds had swept across them. Bruce could feel the smoldering fury beneath his intense stare.

"The ropes of the fly bar were cut," Bruce finished, once again falling silent to await the boy's response.

Once again, that restrained, intense gaze bore into him with enough scrutiny to make even a Batman flinch. "Who cut them?" He asked.

"I don't know," Bruce admitted honestly. With everything he had taken on by bringing Dick into his home, Bruce hadn't the opportunity to investigate as closely as he'd like. "But I swear to you I'll find out."

Dick cocked his head as if he was seeing the Batman for the first time. His expression softened as if he had taken as much information as he could and was finally overwhelmed by it all. His eyes welled with tears and he whispered, "but they'll still be dead."

There was no anger or hatred in his voice as he said those words, just a sad acceptance of that one simple fact whatever the outcome of Bruce's search. It had taken years for Bruce to reach the same conclusion and only after years of frustration and anguish. Dick had relinquished his need for vengeance far sooner than he had and was choosing instead to embrace the loss. A surge of pride went through the Batman and he wanted to hug Dick to tell him how proud he was. Instead, he placed a gauntleted hand on Dick's shoulder and squeezed. "Yes," he answered seeing no reason to lie, "but at least they'll have justice."

Dick looked up at the crime fighter and did not feel the fear that so many villains had. Even with that hard, scary mask, Dick suspected the man behind it was kind and replied, "Just don't let anyone else be hurt."

Once again, Bruce found himself surprised by the boy and answered firmly. "They won't . I promise."

TO BE CONTINUED