Lost Stars

Chapter Ten

-Athena's POV-

I gathered my stuff together into a tiny bag. It reminded me of when I first moved out of the Manor. At the time, I had been surprised by how such little I owned. Now, the tiny handbag that held my belongings was a blinding reminder of just how low I had fallen since then.

And to think my problems used to be so trivial as worrying if Dick would kiss me.

I was glad Tim was still out of town. I didn't want him to try to convince me to stay. Seeing Alfred's disappointed eyes was enough. "Don't be sad, Pennyworth," I patted his back, "at least now you don't have to cook for me."

Alfred nodded and straightened the towel on his arm. "Yes, Miss Athena. However, I would rather cook you hundreds of meals if that meant you wouldn't leave the Manor."

"I have to go," I sighed, "you know just as well as I do that I don't belong here and that I need to go live on my own to go back on patrol."

"Yes, I do know that. But, perhaps you can hold off on the hero stuff to get more training." He said it casually, trying to make the idea seem like my idea. It was a classic manipulation trick. I knew that Alfred had lived with Bruce his whole life, but who knew that Alfred picked some things up?

I shook my head and flexed my arm. My bicep strained against my cotton shirt, displaying all the strength I had gotten back. I had trained relentlessly and eaten enough food to feed me the entire time I was at the Temple. Muscles covered every bone, concealing it from touch. I was back to the way I used to be. And hey, it only took two and a half months.

"I didn't come back to Gotham to sit around. Despite what everyone seems to think, I am not the new Oracle." The thought alone of being back in the devilish wheelchair was haunting.

"Miss Athena, you are forgetting one thing," The condescending nature of Alfred made me whip around, "To be in a wheelchair or have any other disability does not mean you are weak. In fact, sometimes the strongest and bravest people are the ones who seem weak."

I rolled my eyes, but I knew he was right. I was always too hard on myself. But, I couldn't stop. I had trained myself this way. It was a part of my DNA.

"I'm going to go," I turned, but a big hand clasped my shoulder. I knew it wasn't Alfred. I turned and came face to face with Bruce.

"Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?" He asked. His tone was joking, but his face was so serious. I was conflicted on how to feel. But, I did feel intimidated. It was a feeling I still hadn't gotten used to feeling.

Bruce lead me down into the Batcave alone. Assuming he was just going to lecture me, I let my guard down.

I looked down at my watch. "Bruce, I really need to go..." It was almost time for patrol. The sun was already down, leaving Gotham in the dark.

"We need to talk."

He stood stalk still, staring at me. His face was completely flat. When Bruce said he needed to talk, he really wanted to talk. Unlike Bruce, Dick would always lean against something. He could never just stand still and look me in the eyes. He had to be leaning against something. If the news was really bad, he would often fidget. But, Dick could also never really 'talk.' He was good at saying two words then kissing it out, but he wasn't good at talking. That was one of our problems. Because...I also wasn't good at talking.

"Whatever you say, I'm still leaving. Bruce, I've left before," I started to say.

"I know, that's not what I'm here for."

"Bruce, I don't care what you have to say about my life," I hissed, "its not a secret that I don't belong here and I bet you figured that out like everyone else when I left. But, I'm not leaving Gotham. No matter what you're going to try to tell me."