Batman, Robin, and Knight Wolf... it had been that way for years. That is until Dick Grayson left in the night, leaving Bruce Wayne and Blair Wilde to protect Gotham by themselves. Two weeks after Dick's departure, Bruce showed up to the Batcave one...
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Blair swung at Jason, not at all surprised when he blocked it, twisting her arm behind her back. She dropped to the ground, flipping him over her shoulder, using the first maneuver Bruce had ever taught her. Jason shot up off the floor, immediately throwing himself back into the fight.
They had been training nonstop for days, so much that they were almost evenly matched for the first time. Almost.
Jason swung his leg up to kick Blair, only for Blair to duck and catch his leg, pulling him off his feet and to the floor, pinning him down. Jason rolled his eyes as Blair stood up, holding out her hand for him to take, "How am I supposed to train you in the suit if you can't even learn how to avoid being pinned to the ground?"
Jason's eyes widened in excitement as he took her hand, "I'm going to train in the suit?!?"
"Did you not just hear me? You didn't even try to shift the position of power." Blair pointed out, pulling Jason off the floor.
Jason smirked, pulling hard on Blair's arm, dragging her to the ground before pinning her down, "You mean like this?"
Blair shook her head, letting out an amused chuckle, "Fine. Go put the suit on. See if it fits, and we'll see how you do."
Jason practically leapt off the floor, running over to the suit. Blair watched him go, still on the floor. A part of her wanted to smile when Jason disappeared into the dressing room, large part of her actually. She couldn't help it, his excitement was contagious.
Alfred walked over to her, helping her off the ground, "You're doing great, you know."
"God, I hope so. I might think he's a massive pain in the ass, but I want to make sure he's ready before he goes out." Blair admitted, dusting off her pants.
"Despite everything, you managed to put aside your feelings to make sure Jason gets trained." Alfred continued, handing her her water bottle. "I'm proud of you."
Blair let Alfred's words sink in. It had been a long time since anyone had said that to her, she wasn't even sure when the last time was, "You're... proud of me?"
Deep down, she knew that her uncle was most certainly proud of who she was, but that wasn't enough. Why? Because he had no idea who she was. He was proud of Blair Wilde, the golden girl of Gotham, not Blair Wilde, the broken mess that put on a faux fur cloak and a mask on every night.
And what about Bruce? The last time he ever said he was proud of her? When was that? It definitely wasn't recent. Thinking back on it, it had been years since Bruce had said anything remotely resembling the words "proud" and "good job". It just wasn't him.
