Chapter Text
Edith forgot how much she loved the Manor, the grand halls of stonework that seemed never to end. She remembered her parents dancing in one of the ballrooms at many of their charity events, her mother’s fantastic dress sparking all around her. Her father’s gentle smile as she was sent to bed up the grand stairs. Now her childhood home was a brunt shell of its former self.
Edith sighed, her arms crossing over her chest. Her brother was finally rebuilding their childhood home. But not for them, but his team of superheroes. It wasn’t as if Edith wasn’t proud of her brother because she was, and Edith was beyond proud of her brother, and she always has been.
“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Bruce’s warm voice rumbled through the burnt-out building.
Edith huffed at her brother. Like he was one to talk. “Shouldn’t you?” She turned to stare at him. Bruce was wearing a plain hoodie and a pair of jeans. “How did tonight go?”
“It was fine,” He shrugged one shoulder. “Same shit, different night.”
Edith rubbed her arms from the cold. “I forgot how much I loved this place. When you were little, and we rollerbladed in the ballroom, do you remember?”
Bruce chuckled; he pulled his hoodie off, crossing the room with a few steps. “I do, yes. Dad was angry at Mom for letting us do that.” He held the hoodie out to his sister. “You’re cold, Edi.”
“But, it was raining.” Edith smiled at her brother. “Always a gentleman.” Alfred and their father wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.” She let her brother pull the hoodie on her. Bruce pressed a kiss to Edith’s forehead. The hoodie smelled like him, and it surrounded her in comfort.
“Always.” His arm went around her shoulders. “Let me show you what we’re going to do to the manor.”
Edith hummed as Bruce led her through the hallway to the main room. “I met Diana the other night. Wonderful lady.” Edith wondered about the warrior princess’s visits to the lake house. “You should ask her out,” Edith tested the waters.
Her brother chuckled. “I will not be doing that,” he told her. “She’s not my type.”
Edith rolled her eyes. “She’s everyone’s type, little brother.” She leaned into Bruce’s side. “Now, will it just be a meeting spot, or will they live here?”
“Victor might. Barry will visit now and then.” Bruce explained. He dropped his arm from around her shoulders. “But there will be a table here. A big one, round one. Six chairs, but enough room for more.”
She smiled fondly at her brother. “They would be so proud of you.”
There was an uncomfortable chuckle from her brother. “I don’t know about that,” Bruce swallowed. “I got one of their grandchildren killed.”
Her body stiffened up at the mention of Jason. “Jason’s death wasn’t your fault, Bruce.” She knew that her brother would argue with her, and it was one of the things that they always would fight about when she was home.
“You know it was. Alfred still blames me.”
Her heart broke again for her brother. She knew how Jason’s death changed Bruce. The depression that her brother slipped into hasn’t left yet, each passing year, Bruce only sank deeper. “Alfred doesn’t blame you, and neither do I. I know you did everything you could to bring Jason home to us.” She could feel the tears starting to form. “Jason was loved, and our Jay was loved so much.” Her throat closed up with her sorrow; Edith knew that what she was feeling was nowhere near what Bruce felt every day. The tears burned her blue eyes as they fell down her cheeks.
A warm embrace surrounded her, Bruce’s strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. “Don’t cry, please.” Bruce hugged his sister to his chest, the top of her head tucked just under his chin. “I hate seeing you cry.” Bruce buried his nose in her short hair.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I do, Bruce.” She held onto his shirt. “I love you so much.” She pulled back to look up at her brother. “You are a great dad.” She patted him on the chest. Sniffing, Edith nodded. “Let’s go inside; it’s cold out here.” She took her brother’s hand, leading him back to the Lake House.
Edith’s feet patted along the floor gently. She pulled her robe around her tighter. As much as she loved the Manor, the sunrises in the Lake House were terrific. She smiled, finding Alfred standing in front of the stove. “Good morning, Alfred.” She said gently. Edith pressed a kiss to Alfred’s cheek.
“Good morning, dear one.” He said to the woman he helped raise. “Your brother is still sleeping like the dead.”
Edith chuckled. “Sounds like Bruce.” She folded herself in half to sit on the bench by the window. “The weatherman said it would be a beautiful day.”
“Here’s to hoping,” Alfred muttered. He placed a coffee mug on the table in front of her. “Eggs?”
“Please,” She smiled. Her long fingers wrapped around the mug, and her smile slipped from her face. “Was Bruce okay last night?”
Alfred hummed as he worked around the kitchen. “No worse than usual, and he came home in one piece. Thank the Lord for that.”
She watched the older man work in the kitchen. “You need to talk to Bruce,” she said around her mug.
Alfred stopped moving, and he turned his head to look at Edith over his shoulder. “Why?”
“Because he believes that you blame him for Jason’s death.” She said sadly. “He’s been carrying this guilt long enough, Alfie, and it will kill him before the streets do.” She put the mug down with a click. “He doesn’t listen to me anymore, and he’s not that little boy that would hang on my every word anymore.”
Alfred’s shoulders sagged as he sighed. “I only blame one person for Master Jason’s death, and he’s locked up in Arkham.” He turned back towards the stove. “Your brother is a stubborn man, like your father. Despite trying to hide from everything, Master Bruce takes everything to heart. I will speak with him.”
“Thank you, Alfie.” She looked out the window, watching the sunrise over the lake. An ache settled in her chest.
Her heels clicked on the stone floor as she walked toward her brother’s room. With a gentle knock, Edith walked inside. “I hope you’re ready, or we’ll be late.” She called for him. Her dress shined in the light. “I do not want to go to this thing without you.”
Bruce stepped out of his bathroom, fixing his tie.
Edith smiled fondly at him. “Come here,” She said, putting her clutch bag under her arm. “You look just like Dad.” She fixed his tie with a smile.
“And you look like Mom. Nice dress,” he said to his sister, and Bruce pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“I have something for you.” Bruce went over to his dresser. “I found this the other day in the old safe, and I thought you would want it.” He pulled a box from one of the drawers. “Alfred was telling me it was Mom’s and that it would look lovely on you.”
Bruce opened the box to show his sister a necklace inside. Edith gasped softly. It was their mother’s teardrop necklace that their father had bought Martha Wayne after the birth of their second child, Bruce.
“She’s wearing this in the family photo,” Edith muttered. She couldn’t cry. It would ruin her makeup. “The safe, you said? The one in the Manor?”
“The one under the floor in their room survived the fire. Almost all Mom’s jewelry, Dad’s watches, and photos survived, and Alfred has someone cleaning up some of the pictures.” He held the necklace up to her. “You want to wear it tonight?” He asked.
Edith nodded, taking off the one she was initially planning on wearing. Bruce had bought this one for her once she made it through med school. “Do you have Dad’s watch on?”
“I do. We’ll be matching.”
“More than we already do?” Edith sighed as the cool chain touched her skin. Having anything that belonged to their parents was priceless; she was sure it was the same for Bruce.
“Perfect,” Her brother said. “I think Mom would approve. Don’t you?”
“I think so.” She looked over at the clock on Bruce’s bedside table. “We’re going to be late.”
Bruce looked around the gala, trying to find Edith. He was separated from his sister at some point when he had to deal with some idiot reporter. Grabbing himself another drink, he spotted her speaking with Clark Kent. Smirking, Bruce headed that way.
“Mister Kent,” Bruce smirked into his drink.
“Ah,” Clark’s cheeks turned red. “Mister Wayne, good to see you again.”
“You as well. I didn’t think the Daily Planet cared about this sort of thing.” Bruce handed his drink to Edith.
“Well, Mister Wayne, The Planet cares about plenty of things.” He watched the two for a moment. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
The siblings chuckled, and Edith answered first. “Him? I remember him in diapers. He’s my brother.” She smirked. “Doctor Edith Wayne,” she offered her hand to the reporter. “It’s nice to meet you, Mister Kent, finally.”
Clark’s face lit up the turned red. “Oh, well,” He took Edith’s hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, and I didn’t know Bruce had a sister.”
Bruce took his glass back from his sister, finishing the drink off. “Not many people do, and she spends most of her time with Doctors With Borders.”
“Oh, Perry will kill me if I don’t get an interview with you.” Clark reached into his jacket pocket, “Here is my card. I will love to set something up with you if you’re willing.”
Edith took the card with a smile. “I would love to,” She said; she put the card in her clutch bag. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I will grab a drink, and I also see an old friend.” She pressed a kiss to Bruce’s cheek. “It was wonderful to meet you, Clark. I’ll be in touch.”
“Your sister is beautiful,” Clark told Bruce once Edith walked away.
Bruce placed the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “She’ll break you in two, Kent. Stay away from my sister.” He grabbed another drink from a different passing waiter.
“I-I didn’t mean like that.” Clark’s cheeks were bright red. “Besides-“
“You and Lane are a thing,” Bruce took a long pull from his fresh drink.
“Oh, Lois and I broke up.”
“Oh, well,” Bruce cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked away. “I’ll see you next week at the meeting,” he muttered.
Clark nodded, his face turning red again. “Yeah, next week.”
Bruce walked away, trying to distract himself from the news he had just learned about the man. He was unsure about his feelings on the matter. The only reason why they were able to bring Clark back was because of Lois Lane; now, without the woman in Clark’s life, Bruce was concerned about the future. His nightmares were all still the same, the end of the world and running from evil Superman’s army. Without Lois, what would happen to them all now? Bruce sighed, pressing a fake smile back onto his face. He slipped back into the gala.
“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep,” Bruce asked as he stepped into the living room of the Lake House. Edith had barely made it to her room before passing out. Bruce undid his bow tie, taking the glass offered to him by Alfred with a muttered thanks.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Bruce sat on the edge of a chair, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? About what? Did you know Lois and Clark broke up?” He rested the drink on his leg, watching Alfred’s face.
“I did not, no.” Alfred sighed. “I wish to speak to you about Master Jason.”
Bruce’s shoulders stiffened up at the mention of his son’s name. “Why,” he muttered into the glass, drinking the whole thing.
Alfred’s hand gripped the arm of the chair. “This has gone on far too long, Bruce. This guilt that you’re carrying around. I do not blame you for this, and I blame that piece of trash that they keep locked in Arkham, who should be put to death.”
“I couldn’t do it,” Bruce whispered, and he had tried. He was so close to losing himself that night.
“I know, and I thank the Lord every night that you hadn’t. I would have lost both of you.” Alfred let out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be able to handle that.” Alfred pushed himself up from the chair slowly.
Bruce again wondered what he and Edith would do with themselves when they lost this remarkable man, and Bruce’s chest ached. He swallowed hard, and he looked down at his lap until a hand was on his shoulder, and Alfred squeezed his shoulder hard.
“Bruce, it was not your fault, and it wasn’t Jason’s fault. You did everything you could for him, and you know that.” Alfred’s voice sounded like it was shaking. “You are a wonderful father, even if you don’t think you are. Richard loves you so much, and Jason loves you so much. All they wanted was to make you proud.”
“They do. The boys have always made me proud.” Bruce looked up at him, swallowing hard. He wouldn’t cry, not now, later when he was alone. Bruce didn’t know how much he needed to hear this till the words came out of Alfred’s mouth.
“Call Richard in the morning. He misses you.”
“I miss him too.” Bruce drained the rest of the drink Alfred poured him. “Edi would want to see him.”
“I agree.”
Bruce nodded. “Thank you.” A hand ran through his hair, and Bruce leaned into it.
“We soldier on undaunted, you and I, Master Bruce. And if I may say so, I couldn’t beg, borrow or steal a finer way to live my life.” Alfred told him gently. “I am very proud of you, and I am proud of your sister. Both of you have given me such joy. I am thankful your parents allowed me to be a part of your lives.”
“I couldn’t do this without you, Alfred.” Bruce looked up at the man who raised him.
“I know.” Alfred’s hand went back to Bruce’s shoulder. “Go to bed. Call Richard in the morning, and we will tackle tomorrow with the same drive and ambition that you had all those years ago.”
Bruce chuckled. “I feel exhausted already.”
He couldn’t sleep that night. He tossed and turned in his bed, thinking of his talk with Alfred and the news of Clark’s breakup. Giving up on sleep around six am, Bruce grabbed his phone and called his son, and it rang a few times before Dick answered the phone.
“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” His son asked; Bruce could hear the smirk over the phone.