Chapter Text
Bruce looked at the rock ledge about seven feet from where he was currently hanging.
"Don't do it, Bruce!" he heard his friend, Harvey, call from below. "You'll never make it!"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Harvs!" Bruce shouted back with a smirk.
"I'm serious, Bruce! I don't want to have to call Alfred and tell him his foster son fell to his death over a stupid dare!"
"A fall from this height wouldn't kill me, Harvey," Bruce replied with an eye roll.
"I'm serious, Bruce. Come back down here so we can climb down the rest of this mountain and rejoin your billionaire buddies."
"I knew you only hung out with me for my money," Bruce said, laughing heartily.
"Well, it's not for your personality," Harvey muttered, hands on his hips.
"I'll be down in a sec."
"You're lucky we don't have cell service this high up, or I'd already have called Alfred."
"Shut up and let me concentrate!" Bruce snapped.
"Unbelievable," he heard Harvey grumble.
Bruce ignored him, eyes fixed on the rocky ledge. He could make that jump. Easy. He was Batman. He'd done this hundreds of times in the cave. Granted, he was usually harnessed… or wearing a utility belt. But he wasn't Batman right now.
He was Bruce Wayne—Gotham's very own multi-billionaire, arrogant playboy. And Bruce Wayne, being the arrogant and stubborn playboy that he was, had left all his climbing gear—including his helmet—with Harvey, who was standing on a nice, sturdy ledge about 45 feet below him.
Bruce inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He needed to stay calm and clear-headed. He had an important decision to make: Miss the jump and remain a stupid, arrogant, stubborn playboy… or make the jump and become a stupid, arrogant, stubborn, lucky playboy.
Decisions, decisions.
"What's taking you so long?" Harvey called up.
"I'm trying to concentrate!" Bruce yelled back.
"Well, concentrate faster."
"Shut up!"
"If you die," Harvey asked casually, "can I have your Porsche?"
"Harvey!" Bruce snapped.
"It's a really nice Porsche," Harvey said with a shrug.
"I'm not gonna die!"
"Hurry up, or I'm leaving you!"
"Okay! Okay!" Bruce muttered, shaking his head. Lucky billionaire playboy it was. He rocked a couple of times before leaping toward the ledge. His hands struck the rocky surface. Yes! He made it. He was pulling himself up when he felt it. The shift.
Crap.
The ledge was weaker than it looked. It crumbled under his fingers.
"Bruce?" Harvey's voice cracked with panic.
Bruce was sliding. Then falling.
"BRUCE!" Harvey screamed, his voice breaking.
This is going to hurt, Bruce thought, preparing for the hard impact. So much for lucky, playboy billionaire.
One second, he was falling, the next…am I floating?
Small, strong hands gripped him under the arms as he suddenly rose through the air. His brain scrambled to catch up as his feet hit solid ground. Across from Harvey. Bruce blinked in disbelief at his friend's pale, wide-eyed face. He turned to look at his rescuer. "Shayera?" he muttered, his mouth reacting before his brain could.
The winged redhead looked at him, her vibrant green eyes narrowing in confusion.
Bruce mentally slapped himself. She was the only founding Leaguer who didn't know he was Batman. Well… ex-Leaguer.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice low and husky.
"Yeah," Bruce replied, his blue eyes locked onto her green ones.
"Are you sure?" she asked again, unbothered by his intense stare.
"I am. Thank you."
She glanced at him, then at Harvey, and finally at the climbing gear abandoned below. "You guys got it from here?" she asked, giving them a look that made Bruce feel—just a little—like an idiot.
Bruce glanced at Harvey, who stood frozen with his mouth hanging open. "We'll be fine," Bruce said, turning back to her. "Thank you. Again." He offered his best billion-dollar smile.
She didn't blush. Didn't giggle. Didn't even smirk. The only reaction he got was a stiff nod before she took flight.
Bruce watched her long after she was out of sight. "Dude," Harvey said, running up beside him, "do you know who or what that was?"
Bruce turned and stared at the spot where she'd been just seconds ago.
"That was one of those bird people. I thought the Justice League kicked all of them off the planet."
"I guess they didn't get all of them," Bruce muttered, slowly putting his helmet back on as the gears in his head began to turn.
"Should we, like… report it or something?" Harvey asked nervously. "To the UN? The League? I don't know."
"Why?" Bruce asked, readjusting his carabiner. "She's not hurting anyone. She saved my life. Maybe she's not one of the dangerous ones. Not all the bird people were evil. Hawkgirl did end up saving Earth in the end."
Harvey paused, clearly considering it. "Dude," he said after a moment, "what if that was Hawkgirl? How cool would that be? Man, I should've asked for a picture."
Bruce chuckled, double-checking his straps. "You ready?" he asked.
"Can't wait to tell your rich friends," Harvey beamed. "I came face-to-face with a Hawk."
Shayera landed at the entrance of the dark cave she had called home for the past three months. It was dreary and damp. The only comfort it offered was a small fireplace—one she only lit when the cold became unbearable… which was often. Her wings only helped so much.
She began to rub her arms. It wasn't the wind chill that made her tremble. It was him. The blue-eyed man she'd saved. The one who had known her name. His companion might not have heard it, but she.
It was strange. She hadn't heard her birth name spoken aloud in years. Hearing it again—spoken with such certainty—jarred her more than she cared to admit. How had he known? His voice sounded vaguely familiar, but his face didn't trigger any memories. Maybe she had crossed him personally during the invasion. But there had been no fear in his eyes. Shock? Yes. Recognition? Definitely. But not fear.
How?
Hardly anyone knew she was still on Earth. Only a handful of villagers in the remote mountains—kind people, far removed from cities and politics. Maybe they were spared the worst of the Thanagarian invasion. Maybe that's why they could still show her compassion.
Aside from a few quiet rescues here and there, she had no contact with anyone. Ever. She was alone in her solitude. And she liked it. No... she needed it. Shayera moved deeper into the cave and sat on the hard, cold floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her wings tightly around herself, cocooning her body in silence. She felt so small. So tired. So pathetic. She couldn't help but wonder: When will it all end?