Archive of Our Own

Work Text

No one ever wants to hear the words, “The cancer has come back.”It’s even worse when you’re a parent hearing it about your child.Caroline grips her purse tightly. Madeleine is playing with her Nintendo Switch, captivated with Mario. The game system was a Christmas present, while the game was a reward for finishing sixth grade, despite the challenges of being a leukemia patient. The walls of Dr. Michelin’s office are pale yellow and she has artwork from patients framed on the walls. Dr. Michelin keeps her desk clear, with only Maddie’s file, the computer and a small bouquet of daisies gracing it. The office is quiet, the only noise being Maddie hitting the buttons of her game, though Caroline knows the waiting room is bustling.She wishes Jeff were here, but he had to go into work today and the appointment was supposed to be run-of-the-mill, not -- not this.“You’re sure?” She asks, stealing another glance at Maddie. “She seems so much better.”“We’re sure,” Dr Michelin says. “So now what do we do?” Caroline is a lawyer by training -- the top five percent of her class at NYU. She doesn’t like not knowing things, having things out of her control. She isn’t a helicopter parent, she insists, but she does keep a careful eye on Maddie. She has tried to cram an MD’s worth of cancer information into her head, but at the moment it all swims just out of reach. “More chemotherapy,” Dr. Michelin says, “and possibly stem-cell therapy.”“Stem-cell therapy?” Maddie is still focused on her game, but Caroline knows her daughter is listening. Technically Maddie is old enough to be in on these developments and should be taking an active role in this discussion, but Caroline is happy that her daughter is somewhat distracted from the bleak reality. Let her be innocent for awhile longer. “Like -- like a bone marrow transplant?”“Exactly.” Dr. Michelin folds her hands. “We’ll put her on the registry, but I have to ask, I know you’re her adopted parents. Is there any chance of getting in contact with a birth parent? A full-blooded sibling?”No, Caroline wants to say, but it’s her daughter’s life at stake. “I don’t know,” comes out instead. The truth of the matter is that Madeleine’s birth mother was clear about contact: nothing before age eighteen unless it was medically necessary. This would count, she believes; they could ask the adoption agency to reopen the file, get at least a name for the birth mother. Caroline never wanted it to come to this. Caroline never wanted to open the file in the first place: Maddie is hers and Jeff’s, and the biological mother should have no bearing on her daughter’s life, especially as a child. Gotham is a horrible place, one she put up with for a few years because of the man she loves, but she was so glad to move away from Gotham when Maddie was three. They don’t know anything about the birth mother besides the fact she was newly sixteen when she gave birth and her medical information, which included an addict as a mother (grandmother) and a mentally ill father (grandfather), which, Caroline has always thought was indicative of Gotham as a whole. Jeff was the exception, and he proved it by getting out of the city for college and law school.“We can open the adoption file when Maddie is eighteen or there’s medical necessity.” Caroline finally admits, looking down. “I suppose this would count.”“This would definitely count,” Dr. Michelin says. “I’ll write you a letter.”***Not being able to conceive was a huge blow. Intellectually, Caroline knew it had nothing to do with her worth as a person, but as a married high-profile lawyer in environmental law, a child was the last thing missing in her perfect life, and she yearned for it. She even agreed to move to Gotham with Jeff because she wanted to do everything she could to keep him happy since she couldn’t give him a child, despite her fear of the city.Moving to Gotham surprisingly did not help any.Jeff had a good job working as counsel for Wayne Tech, but after the environmental firm she was supposed to join got fear gassed -- along with the rest of the building -- she decided that maybe taking some time off would be best. Instead Caroline threw herself into studying fertility and various methods with the same amount of intensity she used on legal briefs.They had gone with St. Swithin's as an adoption agency because they were local to Gotham and had a good reputation for finding placements. There was also a certain appeal to rescuing a child from abject poverty, from the terror that was Gotham. They could really make a difference in a child’s life, she believed, taking it from unloving parents and giving it a life that the birth parents never could have dared to believe was possible. They received information soon after they submitted their application about a teenager who was eight months pregnant and looking for a loving home for her child. There was a short time where the girl wavered on the adoption, but once she went into labor, she apparently made it known that she didn’t want to keep the child and wanted the adoption to proceed. The paperwork was quickly signed, and Caroline found herself the mother of a beautiful seven pound, eight ounces baby girl with eyes that would stay blue, even if a slightly different shade, and a tuft of golden brown hair. Maddie was perfect. Maddie still is perfect, leukemia be damned.Caroline puts down the suitcase and fluffs the pillows. This routine isn’t unfamiliar to them: settling into the hospital isn’t fun, but she’s done it before. Jeff is cutting his business trip short to come home and meet them there, and Maddie is not thrilled to be in the hospital but is largely content to play games on her Switch instead of futilely complaining. She also has a laptop and a tablet and a phone, all of which offer hours of entertainment.“We’re going to start the chemo right away,” the nurse, Karen, says. Caroline and Maddie both nod. They may not look alike: Maddie still has the dark blonde hair she was born with, though it is curlier than it once was, thanks to the first rounds of chemo, a pale complexion and those bright blue eyes, while Caroline has deep brown, almost black hair, a darker complexion and brown eyes. They make up for their lack of similar looks, however, in their demeanors. Genetically, Maddie might not be hers and Jeff’s, but they are definitely a family of similar souls, with gestures and behaviors in common.“Do you have any questions?” Karen asks, but Maddie shakes her head, back to her game. “Well, if you need anything, I’m here.” She leaves the room.“What’s going to happen?” Maddie sets down her Switch. Caroline pulls up a chair, confused. “Honey, this isn’t the first time you’ve had chemo.”“No, I mean -- I heard what you and Dr. Michelin were talking about in the office this morning. Are you going to contact my birth mother?”“Oh.” Caroline sighs. “Your dad and I have to talk it over first, but...” She smooths out her pants. “I suppose so. Dr. Michelin said she’d write a letter explaining that it’s a medical necessity.”“Do you think she’ll help?” Maddie sets up straighter. “What do you think she’s like? Will I get to meet her?”Truthfully, Caroline has no idea what the birth mother is like. She’s painted a picture in her head of a blonde woman with blue eyes who is still a teenager, who doesn’t do well in school, who doesn’t have a nice and caring family, who lives in one of Gotham’s poor neighborhoods and has no chance of ever getting out: a typical Gothamite, as she’s always thought of the population. She doesn’t want to meet the birth mother, doesn’t want her to get involved in Maddie’s life, not when things are going so well.Except now they’re not going that well at all, and the birth mother might be the only way to save Maddie.“I don’t know,” she says carefully, looking Maddie in the eye. “She was -- she was only a few years older than you are when she got pregnant, and it’s been over twelve years. A lot could have changed in the meantime, and all we ever knew was her medical history.” Caroline reaches out and threads a hand through Maddie’s hair. “Do you want to meet her?”s“Hmm, maybe? It might be cool.” She is terrified of Maddie’s response. There is so much potential for things to go wrong, for the birth mother to end up fitting Caroline’s fears or be even worse. Addicted to drugs, in prison, living on the streets -- none of those things would surprise Caroline. The best thing the birth mother ever did was give up Maddie, in Caroline’s opinion. “Well, we’ll see,” she says, noncommittally. She and Jeff are lawyers, even if she hasn’t practiced in over a decade. They know people, reputable people who can track down people and perform background checks. The birth mother won’t even get near Maddie unless she’s been vetted by Caroline herself, and the same goes for the mysterious stranger who is the birth father -- someone Caroline can’t even begin to fathom (Was it rape? Was it a teenage tryst? Was Maddie wanted and something happened? Caroline has heard that some teenagers want to become parents, that it’s seen as a rite of passage or something unfathomable to her.) “Can I have Boo?” Caroline smiles and gets up to fetch the raggedy dog that Maddie has had since she came home to them. “I’m going to try to call your dad,” Caroline says, watching Maddie cuddle with Boo. “I’ll be right back.”***Jeff doesn’t answer his phone, which meant he is probably flying. She’d worry about the bills of both the hospitalization and the emergency flight, except that an anonymous donor had taken charge of all medical bills and expenses -- including travel expenses -- necessitated by Maddie’s leukemia, when Maddie was first diagnosed at nine. The hospital is forbidden from giving out the donor’s information, of course, which bothers Caroline only because she wants to give them a huge hug and a profound “thank you” for doing it. Jeff and she are well-off, but leukemia is expensive, and insurance doesn’t cover everything. All they have to do is submit expense reports -- anything from wigs to travel expenses (luckily they live in the same city as the hospital), but emergency travel like this, or the time they went to Disneyland and had to rush back home a year and a half ago because Maddie had gotten the flu, is covered. Maddie is receiving her chemotherapy and doesn’t need her hand held, she had insisted, so Caroline has some free time. She leans back against the waiting room wall, and offers a small smile to the other parent there. Soon she will know names and professions and the number of children and probably hobbies of everyone in the families who frequented the oncology waiting room, but this is the first time Maddie was checked in for a long stay since her bout of flu, and she doesn’t recognize anyone.“I’m Meg,” the woman comes over, placing a well-read magazine back on the table in the middle of the room. “Is this your first time?”“Caroline. And no, my daughter has relapsed after being two years cancer free.” Caroline takes Meg’s hand. “You?”“My daughter has been in here for over a month now. She has non-Hodgkin Lymphoma.” “Mine has ALL.” Typical cancer parent dialogue. “How is the chemo going?”“It’s...going.” Meg shrugs. “I hate seeing her like this.”“It’s not going to get easier,” Caroline says truthfully, “but you learn to focus on the good.” Like the days Maddie could eat without throwing up, the time her hair started to grow back, the time Maddie wanted to try make-up instead of wallowing at her appearance. Of course, nine was generally too young for make-up, but Caroline acquiesced and had applied it herself. Before anyone can say anything else, Dr. Michelin comes striding into the room, an envelope in her hand. “Caroline, here is the letter you asked for.”Caroline slowly takes it, the weight of it heavy in her hand, at least figuratively. “Thank you.”“Give my regards to Jeff, though I am sure I will be seeing you around.” Dr. Michelin smiles and leaves.The letter. The one piece needed to reopen Maddie’s adoption file and find the birth mother’s name. Of course, they then had to track down the birth mother, but this is the first step. Caroline leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. She knows what she has to do, even if she’s dreading it. They have to contact the birth mother -- for Maddie’s sake.***It’s not a good day. Jeff holds her hand, as they gather in Maddie’s hospital room with Dr. Michelin and the rest of the team. “There’s a new treatment,” Dr. Michelin says, “and we think that Maddie is a good candidate for it.”“You mean instead of the bone marrow transplant?” Jeff asks.“Possibly.” Dr. Michelin holds out some papers, and he accepts them. Caroline keeps her grip on his other arm. “Gotham Children’s Hospital is doing a clinical trial called ALLR18, which is a therapy for Pediatric Relapsed or Refractory Precursor B-Cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia and Lymphoma, and we’d like to send Maddie there.”“To Gotham.” Caroline finally speaks up. “Why Gotham? Since when does Gotham have a children’s hospital?”“The hospital has been around about five years now, and it was paid for by the Wayne Foundation, I believe.” Dr. Sanders, another doctor on Maddie’s cancer team, speaks up. “I did my residency there, actually, which is how I know it. It’s still semi-new so it isn’t as well-known yet, but they have a lot of cutting edge treatments taking place there, and if it continues its trajectory, it will be one of the top, if not the top, children’s hospital in the country soon.”“It’s that good?” Jeff is a native Gothamite; he has always had a love for the city that Caroline could never understand. “And this treatment -- it will work?”“It’s not a complete surety,” Dr. Michelin warns. “But nothing is, including a bone marrow transplant. Have you contacted the agency yet?” She turns to Caroline. “I can tell you’re hesitant.”“Not -- not yet.” The truth is it’s been a week and while she and Jeff have gone back and forth on it, they couldn’t make up their minds. Jeff is for it: he’s worried, of course, but he thinks there’s no harm in finding out about the birth mother, and the chance to save their daughter overrides everything else. Caroline, however, has done the research and learned that there’s still a high chance that the birth mother won’t be a match -- if she’s willing to donate in the first place. And the chemo seemed to be working, at least as well as it had before, which she supposes isn’t saying anything since the cancer had come back. “We’re still discussing it.”“I think I’d like to meet her,” Maddie pipes up.All the adults turn to her. “I mean, I’ve overheard some of what you’ve been talking about, and I read stuff too, and I know that she may not be a match, but I think it would be nice to meet her.”“That’s a healthy way of looking at it, Maddie.” Dr. Michelin smiles and pats her arm. “But that’s something for the three of you to decide as a family. And you’re right -- she may not be a match, but your birth father could be or maybe you have siblings.”Maddie has always wanted a sibling. Ever since her best friend Amanda, who had become her best friend in pre-school, had gotten a baby sister, Maddie had wanted one too. Eventually she had changed her tune to wanting any type of sibling, but it wasn’t in the cards for the Mathers family. Caroline and Jeff had discussed it a few times over the years, but the fact was their family was perfect as it was, and they didn’t need or necessarily want another child, especially now with Maddie’s leukemia.“I’d love to be a big sister.” Maddie hugs Boo to her chest. “That would be amazing.”“I’m sure you’d be an amazing big sister.” Dr. Sanders says. “But there’s no guarantee you have other siblings out there.”Thank you, Dr. Sanders. “Dr. Sanders is right, Maddie.” Caroline pats Boo on the head. “Don’t get your hopes up too high. We still have to talk about contacting her.”“What’s there to talk about? I want to meet her, and I heard you can get her name.”“A name isn’t everything. Just because we know her name doesn’t mean we can track her down easily, and she may not stand up to your hopes.” This is likely the outcome. Caroline knows her daughter and knows she’s imaging a big happy family, but the probability of that is just not high, not being a Gothamite and a teenage mother, even if she did manage to turn her life around.“I still want to know.” Maddie crosses her arms, Boo clutched even tighter to her chest. “We’ll see, Madeleine.” Jeff’s tone leaves no room for argument.***“Gotham.” They’re in the hospital cafeteria at a table in the corner. Jeff cuts up his meatloaf. “I know you hate the city, but if it’s the best place for Maddie to get treatment...”“If it will cure Maddie, I’ll move there tomorrow.” After all, Maddie always comes first. She had consented to move to Gotham originally because there was the possibility of a child, had wanted to move away from Gotham in the first place because of Maddie. “I don’t like Gotham, but I’ll put up with it for her. If it’s the best place for her to be.”“I think it is.” Jeff scrolls down his phone. “I’ve been Googling, and I know the research side of leukemia is more your thing than mine, but everything I’ve read about the hospital looks great. I think it will be good for her.”“And your parents can help out.” She’s a full-time mom and loves it, but sometimes it just gets exhausting, especially when it comes to cancer. Jeff’s parents come visit them every other Christmas - they visit Jeff’s sister the other years in California, and she gets along well with her in-laws. Having extra people to connect to, to lean on, would be wonderful, besides her cancer parent support group, which helps a lot but sometimes it gets to be too much -- Maddie isn’t dying, not yet.Not for a long time, if Caroline can help it.“They’d love it if we lived closer.” Jeff sighs. “And I can take time off from the firm -- even move back if needed.”“I don’t think we need to go that far,” Caroline hastily says. “Let’s see how the treatment goes.”“We need to really decide on what we’re going to do about Maddie’s birth mother.” He lays down his cutlery. “I know you’re hoping for a non-relative match through the registry or that she doesn’t need a bone marrow transplant at all, especially with this new treatment, but I think it’s something to look into, and Maddie herself has now expressed interest in meeting her.”“I know.” Caroline sighs. “I just... I just want to protect her. It’s Gotham, Jeff. A city known for its crazies and income equality. And the birth mother made it clear that she wanted a closed adoption, that she didn’t want anything to do with Maddie after she signed her rights away when Maddie was born. I think... I think it’s best to respect that.”“Except that we have a legitimate medical reason to unseal the file, and the mother said it could be unsealed if there was a medical reason.” “Any adoption file can be taken in front of a judge and unsealed if there’s a medical reason,” Caroline counters. “I did the research. I just don’t think that a girl -- woman -- who is, what, twenty-eight now? I don’t think she needs the extra burden of a deathly-ill adolescent, even if she is a Gotham success story.”“And I think it’s worth it.” Jeff reaches across the table for Caroline’s hand, and she lets him take it. “I’m not asking to become best friends with this woman, and I think she should be vetted before we let Maddie near her. But if she can help save Maddie, then I’m for at least tracking her down.”“Let’s move to Gotham first.” She grips his hand. “And I’ll think about it.”***Moving goes quickly. In less than a week, they find an apartment in Gotham in one of it’s more pricey, upper-class neighborhoods. They can afford it, and Caroline won’t dare live anywhere else in Gotham. Jeff plans on working at home as much as he can. They drive slowly and carefully, but Gotham isn’t that far away, so the ride doesn’t take more than six hours to get there. They check into the hospital first. Jeff and Maddie’s treatment team were right: it is a nice hospital. The walls are cheery colors, and the staff smile and treat the children like royalty. Caroline gets glimpses of high tech equipment, and the new treatment team, headed by Dr. Waters, seems very knowledgeable and friendly. Maddie gets settled into a room by herself with a large screen TV and a blu-ray player -- and is told that while the hospital has lots of movies and TV shows on demand, they also have an extensive Blu-Ray collection. Maddie unpacks Boo first, setting him on the bed, before she takes out her Switch and the collection of new games they had bought her as well -- having to stay in the hospital for an unknown length of time means she’s earned some new games, her parents thought.“You must be tired after all that driving,” Dr. Waters says, after Maddie is settled in.“A bit,” Jeff says ruefully. “Our next stop is the new apartment.”“Well, I think you can head there, get things settled, and come back in the morning for a consultation.” Caroline wants to argue, but doesn’t. “Maddie will be fine here.”“I’m sure you will be, sweetie.” Jeff leans down and brushes his lips against her brow. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”“See you tomorrow, Dad. Mom.”“Love you, Maddie.” Caroline hugs her. “See you tomorrow.”“Love you both.”Leaving Maddie in the hospital is hard, but she’s done it enough now that she has it down: put a smile on her face, keep her head held high, and never show weakness until she’s out of Maddie’s view. Maddie doesn’t need to know how hard her illness is on her parents.She and Jeff quietly go to their car. The moving company had already transported the necessities and the apartment was furnished for them. She felt a bit guilty asking the anonymous donor to pay for apartment expenses, such as getting it furnished, but the donor had okayed it, so she supposes it is all right.The apartment is a two-bedroom place, not that Maddie will be spending a lot of time in her room, if she sleeps in it at all, with an open living room and dining room and a state of the art kitchen. Caroline loves to cook, and she knows the insistence on such a great kitchen was Jeff’s way of trying to make up for moving back to Gotham, no matter how long the move will last. The building has a doorman and requires everyone to be buzzed up. There’s a rooftop terrace with a fountain and trees for shade. It’s not their house in Boston, but it’s perfectly acceptable, and Caroline vows to try to keep an open mind about Gotham, even though she’s terrified.They’ve barely managed to take off their coats, when the doorbell rings and it’s Jeff’s parents, Rhonda and Luis, carrying pizza, salad, and wine. There’s hugging to go around before they settle down to eat.“It’s great to have you back,” Rhonda finally says. “I missed seeing you.”“It’s great to be back,” Jeff answers, squeezing Caroline’s hand. “Despite the circumstances.”“There’s been a lot in the news the past few years about the Children’s Hospital.” Luis says, wiping his mouth. “It’s a good place. The Waynes are really trying to make things better in Gotham.”“I don’t think even they can manage,” slips out of Caroline’s mouth, but everyone just laughs.“Oh, honey, Gotham is a special place. Maybe this time it’ll finally win you over.” Rhonda toasts her with a glass of wine. “You just need a Gotham moment.”“A Gotham moment?” She asks, swirling her own glass of wine in her free hand.“It’s...” Jeff flounders for a moment, squeezing her hand again, “It’s a moment that could only happen in Gotham. A good moment,” he adds quickly, seeing her raised eyebrow. “It happens sometimes to those of us who are born Gothamites, if we’ve been away a long time, but it usually happens to people who aren’t born and bred Gothamites.”“And it’s special. You’ll know it when you have it,” Luis adds. “I suppose so,” she defers demurely. “But I think I’m going to have my hands full with Maddie and her treatment.”“Of course, honey.” Rhonda takes a sip of her wine. “We’re planning on visiting her tomorrow if that’s okay?”“Visiting hours are between one and five pm,” Caroline quotes from the packet of papers they had received. “We’ll be there too.”“Excellent.” Luis sets down his glass. “And Jeff mentioned -- you’re thinking of looking up her birth parents?”“That’s...still up in the air,” Jeff answers, glancing at her. “It’s a long process that requires the okay of the adoption agency and possibly a court order.”“Well, we’ll be glad to help out with whatever you need, should the time come.” Luis Mathers is a retired music teacher, and Rhonda is a retired history teacher. Caroline isn’t sure how much they can help out, but she sends both of them a smile, even if it’s a bit shaky.“Thanks.” She extracts her hand from Jeff’s. “I’m just worried about Maddie and the birth mother not standing up to her hopes.”“That’s tough, but it’s probably been long enough that the birth mother is on a different path now. Or at least we hope so.” Rhonda puts her wine down. “I know you don’t have the best...opinion,” she chooses the words carefully, “about the majority of people from Gotham, but you shouldn’t let the crazies ruin it. The masked villains really are a small part of Gotham. There’s a lot of poverty, sure, but the Wayne Foundation and other sources are fighting back hard.”“I suppose so.” Caroline downs the rest of her wine. “I’m glad people are trying to do something.”“You should come and take a walk with me. We’ll stick to the good neighborhoods, but you’ll see that Gotham is a decent place, especially in the daylight.”“Thank you, Rhonda.” Suddenly she is exhausted. “I think -- I think I’ll turn in early tonight.” She stands up. “Good night, everyone.”She waits until she’s alone in the master bath to sit down on the closed toilet and cry.***Gotham isn’t...as bad as she remembers. It’s a sunny day, before visiting hours, and Rhonda came over with bagels and cream cheese and coffee from the local Sundollar. After a bagel and a long night’s sleep, she felt human again, and was ready to take her mother-in-law up on her offer of a walk. “It’s brighter than I remember,” she admits to Rhonda, as they stroll down the sidewalk. “I always have this memory of an overcast day with a temperature in the fifties and people just walking with their heads down, hurrying to get where they’re going without dealing with other people. Just so...uninviting,” she says, rubbing her arms in memory.“And Gotham can be uninviting,” Rhonda replies, “but it doesn’t have to be. Gotham, it... it looks out for its own.”“I guess.” She looks around at the scenery: Gothic but well-kept buildings, trees lining the curbs, a bright blue sky with nary a cloud. She can hear traffic, but it’s not close by. Honestly, this reminds her a bit of their neighborhood in Boston, except there are houses instead of apartments. They pass the occasional walker, some with dogs -- or other pets (one woman was walking her bunny rabbit). All in all, it’s very...domestic.“I’m terrified of finding the birth mother,” she blurts out instead. She doesn’t know where the words came from. “Maddie’s birth mother,” she clarifies, even though it’s obvious who she means. “Oh Caroline...” Rhonda stops and pulls her into a hug in the middle of the sidewalk. “It will be okay.”“But will it?” She hugs the woman back, stays in her embrace. “Maddie is -- Maddie could be dying. The only way to save her might be a stranger. Except it’s not just a stranger, because I wouldn’t have to worry about a stranger, the entire thing would be anonymous and done with as soon as Maddie got the marrow. But her birth mother? Maddie says she wants to meet her! And I don’t -- I don’t want to share.”That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Caroline doesn’t want to share. She is Maddie’s mother, and Maddie’s mother alone. She could be assured that Maddie’s birth mother was a nun from a well-off family who made a mistake as a teenager, and she’d still worry, because Maddie was hers. They wanted a closed adoption because she didn’t want to share then and she doesn’t want to share now. And getting the birth mother’s name, opening that chapter of Maddie’s past... she is terrified that it might take her daughter away from her.Of course, not opening that chapter may very well take Maddie away from her in another, more permanent manner.“Oh, you’ll always be her mother.” Rhonda wipes away tears Caroline isn’t aware she had shed. “She’ll be all grown up one day and you’ll still be her mother.”“I guess so,” Caroline sniffs. “I just... I just can’t believe I broke down on the street like this.”“How about we find a cafe, and then we can talk?” Rhonda leads her down a couple more streets to a block lined with colorful tables and chairs and flowers. They settle in at a small cafe and order coffees before Caroline continues. “You must think I’m an awful person for trying to deny Maddie this, but I just don’t know what to do. All I can think of is the worst case scenario. We know from the mother’s medical history that addiction and mental illness run in the family. What if the mother is both? What if the mother is a criminal? What if she just wants to use Maddie?”“I think she wants what is best for Maddie,” Rhonda counters. “She gave her up, after all. That couldn’t have been an easy thing to do. She had other options: could have just dropped her in an orphanage, we got those in Gotham, or aborted the baby, or even kept her! But she gave her up to you, because that was the right thing to do. And I think that if she could do that as a teenager in a very trying situation, that she will likely do the right thing when it comes to Maddie now.”“Maybe.” Caroline holds her coffee close. “I hope so.”***She and Rhonda meet Jeff and Luis at the hospital. She takes Jeff aside before they can enter Maddie’s room. “I just wanted you to know that I think we should look up Maddie’s birth mother.” “You do?” He looks surprised. “I thought you were against it.”“I am -- I was,” she amends. “But I talked it over with Rhonda today, and I think that while we should definitely be careful, at least the name can’t hurt.”“All right.” Jeff smooths his hair. “Let’s do it.”They join hands and enter Maddie’s room together.***It’s a few days later when Jeff approaches her with a slim letter. “Here’s the reply from St. Swithin’s.” This would either contain the birth mother’s name, or a refusal which would mean an appearance in court. Her hands shake when Jeff hands it to her. “I don’t know if I can do this, Jeff.” “I’m right here beside you. And remember, Maddie’s my daughter too, Caro.” He uses the nickname only he is allowed. “She wrote on the adoption paperwork that medical necessity was a reason to hand out her name, so it should be good news.”Caroline still isn’t convinced getting the birth mother’s name was good news, but she puts a thumb under the flap of the envelope and pulls anyways.The letter is short and to the point:“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Mathers,Based on the medical documentation you have provided and the clause outlined in your adoption contract, we have decided to release the birth mother’s name to you. Here is a copy of the surrender paperwork for the minor child now known as Madeleine Christine Mathers.”Caroline moves to the next sheet, titled “Surrender of Custody and Consent of Adoption.” “WHEREAS, I, Stephanie Brown, being the mother of Baby Girl Brown, (born 4/25/2006) am unable properly to support, care for and educate said child; and --”She looks up at Jeff. “Stephanie Brown. Our daughter’s birth mother is named Stephanie Brown.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

There’s not a Stephanie Brown in the phone book. It’s the first -- and only -- place Caroline dares look. Jeff takes the letter from her and says he’ll get an investigator from his firm to look into the woman. There’s also always Google, but the truth is Caroline doesn’t want to know about this woman. If it were possible, she’d send a letter -- the old fashioned way -- without a return address and instructions to get a blood test done and get registered by the bone marrow registry and no further information. That way she -- Stephanie, her mind now supplies -- would be vetted by the registry but no further contact between her and Maddie would be needed.“Stephanie. Stephanie.” Jeff tries it out, letting the name fall from his tongue. “I like it.”“It makes me think of a teenager” Caroline replies.“It makes you think of a teenager because that’s how old she was when she had Maddie. But she’s twenty-eight now,” Jeff counters. “And she could be addicted to drugs or in an mental hospital or -”“Or she could be a successful attorney for all we know.” Jeff reaches over and takes her hand. “Look, I know you’re nervous and also a teeny bit jealous. But -”She rips her hand away. “I am not jealous! I am simply worried that we’re going to let a complete stranger into our daughter’s life, at a very trying and emotional time.” She crosses her arms. “I am trying to protect Maddie.”“And you’re typecasting the people of Gotham again, Caro. I know you don’t enjoy it here, but I’m from Gotham, and you love me.”Caroline’s mouth softens. “But you got out. You made a difference.”“And my parents? They’ve lived in Gotham for decades.”“They didn’t come from Gotham, they got teaching jobs here.” She sighs. “Look, I will...try to be accepting of Stephanie, whoever she turns out to be. But she may not even be a match, and I don’t want to get Maddie’s hopes up to find out that her birth mother isn’t the person she wants her to be.”“And I accept that.” Jeff holds out his arms, and Caroline falls into them. “Let’s let the investigator do their job.”***Nora Westin is an investigator that Jeff has worked with before and very good at her job. It’s less than twenty-four hours later that they get the call that she’s found Stephanie Brown. “She was a minor when she gave birth, so it wasn’t easy to get information, but I’ve verified the information, and it’s her,” she says on speaker-phone.“What did you find?” Jeff asks calmly. “Stephanie Brown: twenty-eight years-old, born March 15, 1990. No marriages on file. No criminal record. Her parents are listed on her birth certificate as Agnes Brown and Arthur Brown. I haven’t looked them up, but I can if you want. Stephanie got her GED in 2009 and started Gotham University September 2009. She graduated in May 2013 with a BA in Psychology and a minor in computer science. She entered a psychology PhD program August 2013 at the University of Pennsylvania and is currently ABD-- All But Dissertation -- there.”“She’s a psychology PhD student at an Ivy League?” Caroline interrupts. “Yes.” Nora’s voice is matter-of-fact. “My daughter’s birth mother ended up at an Ivy League.” This was...unexpected, to say the least. Jeff puts his arm around her. “I know we haven’t given you any information on the birth father yet, but did you find out if there are any siblings?” Jeff asks.“I checked her social media accounts, and they’re pretty locked down. That’s how I got the information about her education, but anything personal required you to be friends with her, and she seems picky about accepting friends, since she only has a small number.” Nora hmms. “I can look into her further, if you want, check birth records and such. But that will take longer, since I don’t know exactly when to look.”“Let’s table that.” Jeff squeezes Caroline. “Did you get a phone number for her? An address? Email?”“Her email is [email protected], though she may have a personal email. Her phone number is unlisted and I’ll have to do some digging to find it. I’ve emailed a report of what I’ve found so far.”“Thanks, Nora. You’ve been a great help.”“Not a problem, Mr. Mathers. Good bye.” She hangs up.Caroline is torn between wanting to run and grab her laptop and wanting to keep the mystery of Stephanie Brown. Jeff, however, grabs the tablet closest to him, and opens up the email immediately.“Look, that’s her.” He holds the tablet up, and Caroline sees a woman with a shade of hair that can only be called yellow, blue eyes and a smile. She’s looking off to the side and wearing a purple blouse and a necklace with the charm disappearing into her shirt. Her hair is long and flowing, with a slight curl, held back by a purple band. She looks happy and carefree and honestly like a lovely person.And an Ivy League student...Caroline takes the tablet and swipes through the information. Whatever hardships the girl endured as a teen don’t seem to have taken a toll on her as an adult. There’s her graduate student page from the UPenn website, with an official looking photo of Stephanie in a different purple blouse -- clearly she likes the color purple. It lists her research interests, her PhD advisor, and her publications, of which there are two. Caroline swipes again to find copies of those two papers. She swipes again, and finds a copy of Stephanie’s Facebook account, and her LinkedIn profile. She boasts above average computer skills, knowledge of business practices, and internships with the Wayne Foundation. Her relationship status on Facebook is “other” which could mean a variety of things. “I think this is better than we dared hope,” Jeff says.“I guess so.” She hands the tablet back. “Stephanie seems...well put together.”“A graduate student of advanced standing at an Ivy League? I’d hope so.” He laughs. “And you thought she’d be a drug addict living on the streets. Will you now admit you’re wrong about Stephanie -- and Gotham?”“I...may have let my fears get in the way,” she admits, before changing the subject. “But now we have to decide, do we contact her first or tell Maddie?”***The neighborhood that Gotham Children’s Hospital is in is not great, despite the hospital. It wasn’t bad the first time because she was so keyed up that she didn’t have the brain power to spare to take in the scenery. But now after a few trips, she takes in the scenery, the way the hospital stands out against the washed-out buildings. There are abandoned shopping carts and trash is in the streets. She sees homeless people scattered here and there.She feels sorry for them, but it’s Gotham after all.Jeff pulls into the parking structure of the hospital. The hospital grounds are well-kept, at least. There are no unwanted people milling about. She can’t help her thoughts straying to Stephanie. At first she expected the young woman to be among the number of homeless littering the streets, but now, to find she’s an Ivy League student...well.Perhaps this Stephanie isn’t that bad after all.She follows Jeff up to Maddie’s room. Maddie is sleeping at the moment; the new therapy makes her more tired than she used to be. She wants to stroke her forehead but refrains, not wanting to wake her. Maddie’s TV is playing some live-action show on Nickelodeon, and her cell phone is playing one of the bands she likes that Caroline can never remember the name of -- perhaps 2D.“She’s been sleeping for about twenty minutes,” Sarah, the nurse says. “I expect her to sleep for about another forty minutes.” “Thanks.” Jeff takes a seat in one of the actually comfy chairs. Caroline joins him after a moment of standing over Maddie. “She looks so peaceful,” he murmurs.“She does.” She blinks slowly. Actually, she looks too peaceful. She doesn’t like Maddie looking like that: she should be vibrant and bubbly and not taking a nap in the early afternoon because her treatment is so tiring. Suddenly, Caroline stands up. She can’t stay here anymore, not right now. “I’m going to get some coffee.”She flees.There’s a family waiting room with coffee and tea. She and Jeff have hardly spent any time there, but she knows where it is. The room is bright and cheery -- as cheery as a waiting room in a children’s oncology unit can be -- with comfy chairs and toys and electronics for every age. It’s almost empty with one lone woman in it. The woman sips coffee while keeping half an eye on the TV playing the local PBS station: at 12 pm, it’s some mystery series involving a priest.“Hello!” The other woman says, once Caroline has set foot into the room. “You must be new here, I don’t recognize you.”“My daughter Maddie has been here since Sunday,” Caroline answers, still walking briskly to the coffee machine. She has tried to avoid talking to Gothamites besides her husband, not wanting to get drawn into the city, no matter how much Rhonda’s morning walks are supposed to make her change her mind.“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. My son Oskar has been here three months. Osteosarcoma,” she supplies. “And I should introduce myself, I’m Adriana.” She pronounces it Ah-dree-ah-na. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but...” She shrugs. “Well.”Caroline pours her cup of coffee and adds in just a touch of sugar and cream from the cart. Taking her first sip, she finally turns to the other woman. “I’m Caroline. Maddie has leukemia.” She expects the conversation to end there -- it usually does. While children get to know each other in the ward, the parents usually keep their distance. After all, you’re dealing with one dying child; you don’t need to start worrying about another family’s woes.“That sucks.” Adriana turns full to her. “My husband Ernesto -- he and I take turns. He works for Wayne Tech as a janitor, and I work as a classroom aid at Blythe Elementary. We have a daughter too, Anita, who’s nine and in school. What do you do? What about your husband -- or wife? Are you married? Do you have to take off work to visit? Do you have other children?”Caroline blinks at the barrage of information and the sudden questions. “Well, I -- I don’t work at the moment, though I’m technically a lawyer. I haven’t worked since before Maddie was born, actually, and she’s twelve. My husband is a corporate lawyer, but he’s largely working from home for the next few months. We just moved to Gotham, actually, for a clinical trial here.” She takes a quick sip of her coffee and tries to think if she answered all Adriana’s questions. “Oh that’s handy. I’d love to stay at home, but bills have to be paid. And the hospital bills! Luckily the Wayne Foundation is taking care of a lot of the extra costs, plus we have good health insurance through Ernesto’s job at Wayne Tech. Say what you want about the Waynes, but they’re good people.” Adriana sets down her coffee and leans forwards. “And you just moved here? From where? How do you like Gotham? It’s great, isn’t it? A clinical trial? I hope it works!”“Um, from Boston. And Gotham sure is...something.” Caroline uses taking a sip of coffee to sneak a longer look at Adriana: she’s dressed in sensible clothing that fits fine within a hospital waiting room. In fact, the woman would have fit in just fine in the oncology ward in Boston. “And thank you, I hope it works too.”“You know, since you’re new, I should show you around! The area around the hospital has come up real nice since it got built. We should go on a walk someday after we’re done here. I don’t know how old your daughter is, but Oskar is fifteen and doesn’t usually want us here the entire time, but I don’t like to go too far away, you know? There’s a corner store around the corner that has amazing snacks, though.”If the area is “real nice” now, Caroline shudders to think of what it was like before.“I don’t know...” She hesitates. “Maddie is twelve, by the way. And yes, she’s sleeping now, but this relapse she isn’t as thrilled with us hanging around as she used to be.”Teenage Maddie is one of those things she can’t make herself think about: there’s no guarantee she will hit thirteen, and even then, Caroline’s own teenage years are so far behind her that she can’t imagine what it would be like now.“Come on, it will take us twenty minutes, tops! Let her sleep.” Adriana stands up and offers a hand.“My husband is in her room...”“Then we’ll tell him on the way out! And Maddie will appreciate the surprise snacks, I’m sure of it! Fresh baked pastries. Better than a Sundollar, and a fraction of the price. I told Jim -- he runs the shop -- I told Jim that he should advertise more, but he likes the level of customers he gets, I guess. A lot of the hospital personnel come over.”“I...” She has a feeling that Adriana won’t take no for an answer. “I suppose.”“Great! Let’s tell your husband.” ***Jeff seems amused when she tells him of her plans. “Save me,” she whispers, but Jeff just smiles and motions to a still sleeping Maddie. “I think it’s a great idea, to be honest. Have fun, and bring me back something.”Caroline fights to not roll her eyes. What a huge help he’s been. “Fine.”Adriana is waiting just outside of Maddie’s room. “She looks lovely, your daughter. I love her hair, it’s such a pretty color.”Caroline hasn’t felt self-conscious of her hair or skin color since they first took Maddie home and it was obvious that she wasn’t their biological child. “It’s natural,” Caroline manages not to snap. “She’s adopted.”“Oh, well,” Adriana looks flustered. “That’s nice.”Suddenly Caroline feels badly. “I’m sorry, I’m just...” Stressed. Unhappy to be in Gotham. Afraid to be in Gotham. Resigned that it’s the best choice for Maddie. Worried. Tired. So much.“Jim has this great iced chocolate. It’s like hot chocolate, but iced.” Adriana motions towards the elevators. “Let’s go get some and talk.”They don’t, though, at least not at first. The elevator ride is silent, as is them leaving the hospital. It isn’t until they leave the hospital grounds, that they end up on the regular sidewalk in a neighborhood in Gotham that she had worried about just this morning, that she realizes what she’s doing.“Is it safe?” She freezes.“Is it -- is it safe? Oh, yes.” Adriana grins at her. “Trust me, it’s safe. You’re an out-of-towner, you don’t know Gotham. But really -- this area is quite safe.”“But there’s...” She just gestures to the other buildings that need pressure washing, the litter in the streets. “It doesn’t look...”“Gotham is....” Adriana pauses, looks around. “Gotham’s different than most places. Would I want to walk around here at midnight? Nope. But it’s perfectly safe during the day and the evening. This is a working-class neighborhood, but more white collar than blue collar jobs now.”“Really.” She matches strides with Adriana, afraid of getting left behind. “You’re really something else,” Adriana says, but it’s with a hint of fondness, that somehow makes her feel a little bit better. “This your first time in Gotham?”“No... we used to live here, before Maddie was born -- and then for another three years. Four and a half years total. My husband was born and raised here, though his parents moved here from Atlantic City before he was born.” “But you never fit in, I’m guessing.” Adriana spares her a glance. “Gotham was never yours.”“No. It never was.” And she never wanted it to be.“Hmm.” Adriana suddenly changes the subject. “What do you do for fun?”“Fun?” Caroline almost stops walking. “I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that before.”“Well, that’s on them.” Adriana keeps on walking. “But tell me, besides being a mom, what do you do? You said you used to be a lawyer? Why did you stop? Did you like it? Do you think you’re ever going to go back?”“I stopped because -” Did she tell the truth? “I stopped because the firm I was supposed to start at got fear-gassed only a few days before I started. It was before Maddie was born -- before we adopted her.” She adds on in a rush. “I didn’t dare go back to that firm, and I was trying to get pregnant and then we decided on adoption and only a couple of months later, Maddie was in our lives, and I just never went back to work.”She doesn’t know why she’s blurting out all this information to a woman she just met, but there’s something...calming about Adriana, despite the woman being so talkative she should seem anything but calm.“Oh fear-gas is not fun,” Adriana shakes her head, stopping. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to go back, especially when you were to new to Gotham; that must have been scary.”It’s been so long, but she still remembers hearing it on the news. Scarecrow had escaped again, and had been randomly hitting buildings in the business district. It might not have been so bad if the firm itself had been the target -- as an environmental lawyer, Caroline knew that people and corporations weren’t always happy with their work. She hadn’t been targeted ever, but she had heard of people who got death threats and other unpleasantries, to say the least. If Scarecrow had had a grudge, well...it wouldn’t have been good but at least it made sense.The problem was that Scarecrow -- and Gotham itself -- didn’t make sense.“It was scary,” she says softly. “It didn’t make sense to me, why someone would randomly do that. And -” And that’s always been her opinion of Gotham: she was frightened of it before, because of its reputation, but thought that she could deal with it, until she was almost part of a crazed random attack.Then it was over.“Gotham has its crazies, it does.” Adriana shrugs. “But other places do too. Gotham’s crazy is just a bit...different than other cities’.” Caroline huffs. “That’s one way of looking at it.”“But Gotham can be great too! You just have to see the other side of it.” “Now you sound like my mother-in-law.” Caroline huffs. “We go walking every morning in our neighborhood so I can see the people and learn it’s not a scary place, as she calls it.”“Your mother-in-law sounds like a sensible person. Here,” Adriana changes the subject, “we’re almost there.” She points to a store just ahead with a fruit and vegetable stand out in front. “It’s a small market, but it’s got it where it counts. Also good to go grocery shopping here when you don’t have time ‘cause you’re spending so much time at the hospital.”They ordered groceries in then, she doesn’t say. Even as a child, her parents rarely bought groceries themselves. Her mother was an accountant, her father in business. They weren’t rich, but they made good money, enough to pay a cousin of her mother’s (her mother had a very large family) to come and do things like shopping and house cleaning. It doesn’t seem right to mention that.Instead, she browses the shelves: many of the items are in an Asian language she doesn’t speak. Adriana starts chatting up the man behind the counter -- probably this Jim -- immediately, and he takes out pastries from a glass case on the counter. There’s nothing she needs, but she thinks of Adriana speaking of snacks and grabs a few colorful boxes of sweets and one she hopes is savory (it has shrimp on the front) for Jeff. She brings her purchases up to the counter, where Adriana has finished paying.“This is my new friend, Caroline. She’s got a daughter up with Oskar, and she’s new to Gotham.” Adriana pats Caroline’s arm. “I told her all about you and your awesome snacks and pastries, and I see you took it to heart!” She turns to Caroline at the end.“Yes...I figured I might as well try some.” Caroline lays the boxes on the counter and looks towards the pastries. She’s not hungry, but maybe Maddie will be? She knows it’s unlikely, Maddie is rarely hungry after chemo, but it’s more normalcy that she needs at the moment. “And can I have, um, two of those?” She chooses some sweet looking buns.“Sure!” Jim scoops them out and rings up her total. She pays with cash, and Adriana and she leave the store.“See, isn’t it a nice little place?” Adriana says. “Yes,” she murmurs. To be honest, she expected gang bangers or something lurking behind the aisles -- weren’t little places like that required to be under some form of protection scheme? But there was no hint of it at all. In fact, it reminded her of the little market in Boston she’d send Maddie to pick up eggs or sugar if she were in the middle of cooking something and ran out.“It seemed very safe,” she says aloud. “See, not everything in Gotham is scary.” Adriana emphatically nods her head. “Look, stay out of Crime Alley and the Bowery. They’ve gotten better in recent years, but they’re still the crime deposits of Gotham, and it’s just best to stay away from them if you can. But really Gotham is like your typical big city -- there are places in Boston you stayed out of, right?”She nods. “Then stop thinking of Gotham as this place of horrors and start thinking of it like a big city with its good and bad sides. There are some really nice places. Like Robinson Park can be lots of fun! And the beaches can be nice. Amusement Mile -- as long as you stay out of the abandoned areas -- can be worth a day of fun.”“In Boston you don’t get randomly fear-gassed.” Moving to Boston after being in Gotham for four and a half years was a breath of fresh air. She no longer had to fear going out or whether the gas masks were still unexpired or whether Maddie would get kidnapped by a insane man when she’s older who had a thing for white rabbits and blonde girls. “All right, true, but security in Arkham has gotten a lot better in the past seven years, so fear-gassing are less likely to happen. And Batman Inc. does a good job of keeping the city -- and the world -- safe.”“Right, the Batman.” It is impossible to deny the caped crusader’s existence when he is a member of the Justice League, but Caroline still belongs to the subset of the population who are skeptical about him and his methods. She’s never run into a superhero -- or vigilante -- before, but she doesn’t really feel the urge to. Of course, Maddie is obsessed with Wonder Woman, which Caroline can’t understand but also at the same time accepts -- Wonder Woman is a good role model, unlike a vigilante.“Ohh, not a fan?” Adriana looks back at her, almost teasing.“Not really.” She shrugs. “I just never saw the appeal.”“Well, the city is pretty obsessed with him.” Adriana shoulders her bag of treats. The hospital entrance is now in view.“I’ve noticed.” Caroline answers drily. It hasn’t been a full week since she’s been in Gotham again but stores are still teeming with Batman merchandise. It was actually kind of nice to be in Jim’s store and not see any Batman-related merchandise.They enter the hospital together.***They don’t bring up Stephanie during the visit. Maddie would rather complain about her homework and lunch, which she barely manages to keep down. The snacks are appreciated by both her husband and daughter, though. Maddie says she’ll save them for later, once her stomach has quieted down.Dr. Burgess comes to talk about Maddie’s treatment later on and how it’s progressing. “Your first week went well, didn’t it?” Maddie nods. She’s in her favorite pair of jeans and a Wonder Woman t-shirt she got signed by Wonder Woman herself during her Make-A-Wish visit. The t-shirt was too big then, but it fits her well now. Maddie is covered in an afghan her late paternal great-grandmother Clarice knitted before she passed. It’s warm enough outside not to need an afghan, but Maddie likes the afghan around her shoulders like a security blanket or a cape.Dr. Burgess continues. “We’re moving onto the next stage, adding in the Rituximab and the natural killer cells from a donor. We need to discuss Maddie’s donor, as I understand you are her adoptive parents.” Maddie perks up. This is not what Caroline wanted to discuss today. “We’re working on it.” Jeff answers.“We haven’t found a donor through the registry yet, which means a biological parent or sibling is going to be the best bet, moving forwards. Have you made any progress?” “We have a name and an email for the birth mother. We’re planning on contacting her soon.” Caroline lets Jeff take control of the conversation.“You really need to contact her as soon as possible,” Dr. Burgess admonishes. “I understand that it’s a tricky situation, but we do need to move quickly. And I’d be happy to write or get in contact with the birth mother or father myself, if necessary. But decisions have to be made soon.” She pats Maddie’s arm again and leaves the room.“I still want to meet her,” Maddie says. “You got her name? What is it?”“Her name is Stephanie, Stephanie Brown. Here -- I’ll show you a picture.” Jeff takes out his phone and after some fiddling, shows it to Maddie. “She looks like me!” Maddie takes it in her hand. “Well, like my hair did before it fell out.”“Yes, she does.” Caroline quietly says. “And when can I meet her?” Maddie passes the phone back to her father. “Can she visit me in the hospital?”“Maybe.” Caroline doesn’t say it’s the last thing she wants, even if she is an Ivy League graduate student. She still wants the woman to stay away from her daughter. “We’ll have to see.”“We’re going to email her tonight,” Jeff says. Caroline looks at him sharply. They haven’t discussed this at all.“We have to,” he says sotto voce to Caroline. “You heard Dr. Burgess.”“I guess,” she murmurs. “How is Amanda doing, she’s been texting you, right?”Maddie looks piercingly at her for a moment before relenting. “Josh Richards is being a pain, like usual. And -” Caroline lets her daughter ramble about the life she is missing in Boston, and holds back a sigh. There is apparently no delaying anymore -- they have to email Stephanie.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It’s a normal chaotic morning.  
 
Stephanie doesn’t sleep well anymore, so each hour she manages to actually sleep is a blessing.  She hears the alarm but does her best to ignore it, while Jay leans over and shuts it off. She feels him rise out of bed rather than watching it, something that never bothered her in the past but now in her present condition is jarring.  He keeps the lights low and stays quiet, pulling on his clothes as silently as he can. She keeps her eyes closed and pleads to go back to sleep before her own alarm goes off in an hour.
 
No dice.
 
She hears him exit their bedroom.  Jay does his best to handle the morning routine even if he was out late the night before patrolling, which he usually is, since she’s benched for the time being.  Annabelle, her darling Annabelle, is not a morning person (which makes sense since neither of her parents are), so it’s always

fun

to get her up in the morning.  If it’s a good day, there’s minimal grumbling and whining.
 
It’s not a good day.
 
Steph groans and pulls her pillow over her head, though it does nothing really but make it harder to breath, when she’s already short of breath.

Let me sleep

, she mutters at whatever higher power may be out there.

Just let me get another hour

.  It’s seven in the morning, and she doesn’t need to be up until nine or ten.  
 
But today doesn’t seem like it’s going to be one of those days.
 
Jason is a good cook.  Jason can make fantastic breakfasts, but fantastic breakfasts are lost on a five year-old, especially when there’s school.  And apparently Stephanie forgot to pick up the Cheerios yesterday, because Annabelle is making her displeasure known. Cheerios and eggs with toast are

not

the same thing.  
 
She attempts to roll over, but with a stomach as big as a beach ball, it takes a bit of maneuvering.  “Mommy is trying to sleep,” she hears Jason whisper aggressively in a tone that isn’t meant to carry but still does.  “I’ll give you Fruit Loops instead.” Fruit Loops is a weekend or desert cereal, but Stephanie agrees with Jason’s choice for today.  Of course, Annabelle isn’t having any of it.
 
“I want

Cheerios

, Daddy!”
 
“But there

are

no Cheerios, chicken.”  She can just see him standing there in his jeans and t-shirt untucked, hands on his hips, barefeet.  Annabelle should already be dressed, and is probably wearing something frilly -- she’s in that stage, with her hands on her hips, mirroring him.  “What do you want instead?”
 
Uh-oh.  Last time they tried that, she wanted a pony and Bruce, the traitor, actually got her one that now lives at the manor with Damian’s animals.
 
“Cheerios!”
 
“How about...donuts?” Jason is clearly flustered, but Stephanie leaves him to it.  Sleep is more important.
 
“...chocolate donuts?”  They go back to whispering, so Stephanie can’t hear anymore.  She sighs. This is not working. She punches the body pillow, and sits up.  There’s no point in staying in bed if she’s not going to sleep, and she just

knows

she’s not going to go back to sleep for at least a while.  Maybe she’ll take a nap in the afternoon instead...
 
Carefully, she sits up and reaches for a pair of yoga pants.  She pulls them on and stands up. “Lights on!” she calls, and the room gets brighter.  She waddles -- because really, there is no denying it anymore, it is

waddling

-- to the bathroom to relieve herself before peeking out into the main room of their apartment.  
 
Annabelle sees her first.  “Mommy! Daddy and I are getting

donuts

.”  A pause.  “There’s no more Cheerios.”  Her tone is accusing.
 
“That was my fault, pumpkin, sorry about that.”  She leans against the doorway.
 
“It’s okay, Mommy, I like donuts.”  Annabelle runs up and hugs her, but her stomach nearly gets in the way.  “Chocolate donuts.”
 
“Chocolate donuts are good.”  Stephanie nods.
 
“Steph,” Jay turns and winces.  “Sorry about waking -”
 
“Don’t worry about it.” She cuts him off.  He strides to her and gives her her morning kiss.  “Donuts today, huh?”
 
He grins sheepishly.  “Donuts today. Do you want some?  Annie and I were just going to grab them on the way to school, but I can swing back here instead.”
 
“No, go ahead.  You wouldn’t have time anyways, and I’ll eat a yoghurt.”  And donuts would probably just give her heartburn. She watches as he grabs both of their shoes from the entryway and they finish getting ready.  
 
“Bye Mommy!”
 
“Bye Steph!”
 
“Bye, you two!”  She calls out, as they grab their backpacks and leave. The door bangs shut and suddenly she’s alone.
 
She can’t have regular coffee, which is an absolute bummer, because it gives her the worst heartburn, so she has one cup of decaf instead.  Not the same, but at least it doesn’t come up part way again, and it does have a

little

bit of caffeine in it, so she can kind of trick her mind into thinking it’s the real thing.  Sort of.
 
She plods to the fridge and grabs a yogurt and some blueberries, and pops some toast in the toaster.  Since it’s hours before she usually gets up, she takes her time. She can get to her emails and dissertation in a bit.  She takes a seat at the table and picks up the

Gotham Gazette

to browse through.  
 
It’s a pretty tame day for the news, even if the

Gotham Gazette

is often more tabloid about the Bats than anything else.  The new editor in chief has tried to make it more factual, but it is still

the

place to get Bat news.  Not that Stephanie needs to get Bat news from there, of course, but it’s amusing and sometimes interesting to see what the public is reading about them all.  Her hours of free time move languidly. She moves onto the

Gotham Globe

and reads whatever she finds interesting.  People tend to hover around her now, so she appreciates the break, even if it is at the expense of sleep.  But all good things must come to an end, and she eventually realizes she has to get to work.
 
First things first: she makes a cup of herbal tea.  She has a routine now, where she works from around nine or ten in the morning to noon, takes a short lunch break, and then goes back to her writing until four or so in the afternoon, when it’s either time to pick up Annabelle or Annabelle comes home with Peyton, the sitter.  She’s done her research for the most part so now it’s down to just

writing

the dissertation.  Her routine always starts with herbal tea and her emails -- professional account and personal account -- before starting the writing process, when she often turns off the internet on her computer so she can write without distractions.  
 
Grabbing her laptop from the coffee table in the living room -- she had been streaming a movie last night, waiting for Jay to come home -- she sets it up on the kitchen table.  She could have an office to do this in -- their apartment has more than enough space, but she likes sitting in the homey kitchen instead. She can look at the fridge, full of Annabelle’s artwork, and easily get snacks and drinks when she needs it.

All right, Brown, get to work

, she prods herself mentally.  The computer boots instantly, and she navigates to her personal emails first before she gets into the work mindset.  Nothing much -- a reminder from TeamSnap that Annabelle has a soccer game tomorrow morning at nine, a request for a lunch date from a couple of friends from Annabelle’s former preschool.  She replies to the email quickly, making a date for next week, and leans back, sighing.
 
She really doesn’t want to get to work right now.
 
She palms her belly and stretches to the best of her ability, before going back to the computer.  School emails, it is.
 
There’s not much interesting there either.  She’s not teaching any courses this session, just trying to finish writing her dissertation.  Beyond the academic spam (fake journals and conferences asking for papers) and the real but unimportant emails Penn sends out to all students and staff, there’s one email from her advisor, just checking in which she replies quickly to, and another from an email address she doesn’t recognize with the subject line “Pardon the intrusion.”
 
She frowns.  This could very well be spam, but something tells her that it’s worth a look.  For all she knows, it’s a former or future student who is very polite, wanting to talk about something.  She’s on her program’s committee for welcoming new students, and does get emails from prospective students wanting to know what Penn and the department are like.  
 
She opens the email.

Dear Miss Brown

, the email read,

Please pardon this intrusion into your life.  My name is Caroline Mathers and twelve years ago, my husband Jeffrey and I adopted your infant daughter.  Madeleine is a lovely girl who contracted acute lymphocytic leukemia at the age of nine. She responded well to treatment and was in remission until two weeks ago, when she once again showed leukemia cells in her blood test.

Stephanie stops.  Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.
 
She forces herself to read on.

As you started in the original adoption contract you were open to contact for medical reasons, we approached St. Swithin’s with a letter from Madeleine’s oncologist stating that it is important we contact you.  I would prefer to discuss further details in person. I am generally free at any time, but would Saturday at noon at The Greenhouse Cafe be possible?

Sincerely,

Caroline Mathers

Stephanie leans back in the chair.  This was...
 
Was this true?  All thoughts of her dissertation out of her head, she Googles the name Caroline Mathers.  There’s a Caroline Mathers in Boston who was part of the PTA of Eliot Elementary School when they had a fundraiser for the homeless.  The article was dated a few years ago, when Madeleine would have been eight, she thinks.

Pre-leukemia

, her mind adds.  She doesn’t know where the Mathers family lives, except that they’re local now, if Caroline Mathers wants to meet at the Greenhouse Cafe tomorrow.
 
Stephanie knows her way around a computer, but the fastest way to dig up information on someone is to either go to Tim or Babs.  She chooses Babs, as Tim would be at Wayne Enterprises doing whatever he does on a daily basis. Her fingers tapping on the table, she picks up her phone and asks it to dial Babs.
 
The phone is answered quickly. “Hello, Steph.  What’s up?” Babs sounds upbeat, like it’s a normal morning in a normal day, which it is -- for her, at least.

She

hasn’t had her morning interrupted by someone claiming to be the adoptive mother of her sick daughter.
 
“I need you to run a search on Caroline, Jeffery and Madeleine Mathers.  I don’t know where they’re from, but the email is [email protected].  It’s important, Babs.” Stephanie’s voice hitches. “I need to know everything about them.”
 
“Is this for work?”  Babs sounds skeptical but Steph can hear the sound of her keyboard already clicking away.  “You’re benched, and I don’t think Jason has any open cases that involve those names.”
 
“No, Barbara.  They might have my daughter.”  This time, Stephanie can’t stop the croak from escaping.  
 
“They kidnapped Annabelle?”  Babs’ voice goes higher. “Have you -”
 
“No!  Annabelle is at school, she’s fine!”  Or at least Stephanie hopes she is. Annabelle’s new elementary school was picked for a lot of factors not limited to the fact it was well-secured and had a good reputation.  “Jason dropped her off this morning.” She closes her eyes. “It’s my

other

daughter, the one I had when I was sixteen.”
 
“

Oh

.”  Babs sounds shocked, which isn’t a terribly easy thing to do, since as Oracle she had so much information at her fingertips.  “So you think the Matherses adopted your baby? But that was over twelve years ago, right?”
 
“Yeah, it was.” Her voice is quiet.  “I got an email today from Caroline Mathers that their daughter, Madeleine, was the baby girl I gave up and they got my name from St. Swithin’s because it was medically necessary.  That’s the only way they’d be able to get my name before my daughter turns eighteen,” Steph rushes. “She wrote Madeleine has leukemia, and I want to be positive she’s mine.”
 
“Oh, Steph.”  Babs softens her tone.  “I’m pulling them up right away.  “Let me access St. Swithin’s records.”  She does some more clicking. Like any institution in Gotham, Barbara has a way to access it.  
 
Stephanie won’t consider this girl hers until it’s confirmed.  She

can’t

.  It’s sad that a girl out there might have leukemia, but she has one daughter and a boy on the way and she can’t worry about a girl who isn’t hers, not right now.  If Madeleine Mathers

is

hers, on the other hand...
 
She puts a shaking hand to her mouth.
 
“I found it, Steph,” Barbara says quietly.  “It’s her. Little girl Brown was adopted by Jeffrey and Caroline Mathers.”
 
“So she was telling the truth about that, which means that Madeleine probably has leukemia too,” Steph says hollowly.  She doesn’t know much about leukemia beyond the basics, but it’s never good to hear that a child has a deadly disease, and to know that her daughter has it...  
 
“Do you want bank records and everything?  So far there’s nothing criminal on any of them.  Jeffrey Irving Mathers is a lawyer employed by Isaacs and Melvony, a consulting firm who works with corporations all along the East Coast.  He has no criminal record, besides two speeding tickets in the past fifteen years. They live in Boston officially. Caroline Angelica Mathers nee Lyon is unemployed, though she’s licensed to practice law in New York and New Jersey. ” She hears Barbara typing away. “And yep, Madeleine is twelve and was treated for leukemia at Mass General hospital until just recently.”  
 
“So it’s definitely true.”  Stephanie slumps as well as she can in her chair.  
 
“I’m sorry.”  Babs definitely sounds sorry.  “I’ll keep looking into the family; I’m not busy with anything at the moment.”
 
“All right.”  Steph sighs. “Call me if you find anything more.”  She hangs up.
 
Her daughter has leukemia.  
 
The baby -- now a twelve year-old girl named Madeleine -- is never too far away from her thoughts.  Annabelle will pass a milestone and Stephanie will wonder what her other daughter would be like. This pregnancy reminds her of her past two.  She’ll read something involving girls her daughter’s -- Madeleine’s -- age, and wonder whether she likes the same things, does the same things.  A closed adoption was the best choice for everyone, she knows, but it never makes her stop

wondering

what it would have been like.
 
Would she have been tortured if she kept the baby?
 
Would she have become Batgirl if she kept the baby?  
 
She probably couldn’t have kept on being Spoiler, for sure.  Not as a single teenage mother. Her mom got clean and stayed that way, but would the extra stress have caused a relapse?  
 
She wants to say she would have gone to college, but she doesn’t know if she’d be doing a PhD if it weren’t for her family and friends.  And Annabelle had been born right between her first and second semester, with a father and an extended family who were more than willing to help out -- and had the means to.
 
Would that have happened with Madeleine?
 
Dean was...well, Dean was a joke, and had proved that when he came back to Gotham and wanted to start things up with her again, as if nothing had happened.  Would he have even come back if he knew the baby was still around, or would he have stayed away from Gotham?
 
She

still

worries about her father, in prison, and that’s with an entire family of Bats around her and being one herself.  Annabelle doesn’t carry the Wayne name though it’s not hard to figure out, and at five doesn’t seem to mind the heightened security, but would a twelve year-old enjoy it?  Probably not.
 
She puts her head in her hands.  The baby, Ryan, is kicking now, and Steph moves a hand to pat at him.  She knows it’s a boy, after the nurse goofed and let it slip, and they picked out the name Ryan for a boy months ago, but it’s still surreal to be using his name before he’s even born.  With Annabelle they were still shouting out names after she had been delivered, until they decided on Annabelle Christine, after no one’s parents, and no literary figures or scientists (of course later -- after the birth certificate was signed -- did they realize that “Annabel Lee” was a famous poem and Christine Daaé from

The Phantom of the Opera

existed).    
 
One healthy girl, one presumably healthy boy on the way, and a daughter with

leukemia

.  
 
Stephanie turns back to the computer screen, where Caroline’s email is still up.  What do you

say

to something like this?  “I’m sorry the daughter I gave you got sick,” is probably not the answer.  Neither is “I’m sorry and feel responsible” even if Stephanie is pretty sure leukemia isn’t something that comes about based on pregnancy and how she took care of the baby in the womb. (But what if it is?  What if Stephanie

did

do something wrong when pregnant? What if she did something wrong with Annabelle or Ryan and

they’re

going to get sick too?)
 
No.

No

.  
 
She can’t think that way.  
 
First things first: she has to reply to Caroline.  It’s not fair to freak out when Stephanie isn’t really even the real mom.  Caroline is the one who raised Madeleine. Caroline is the one who had to deal with the diagnosis and the treatment and everything that entailed.  Caroline is the one who deserves the sympathy at the moment.
 
Stephanie clicks on “reply” and stares at the blank email.
 
“Dear Caroline,” she starts to write.  Is that too friendly? “Mrs. Mathers” seems to formal, but they’re not friends, not yet.  And she had signed the email as “Caroline Mathers” and not just Caroline.

Aargh

. She lets her hands fall from the keyboard.  She just needs to

do it

and not worry about whether it’s too friendly.  
 
She lets “Dear Caroline” stand.
 
“Dear Caroline,  thank you for your email.  I am indeed free Saturday at noon.  I will meet you at the Greenhouse Cafe.  Sincerely, Stephanie.”
 
There.  Short and sweet.  Well, not sweet, because the topics they’d be discussing probably weren’t sweet at all, but it was done at least.  Now she just had to send it...

But her hand never strays towards the send button.
 
Was she too flippant?  What does Caroline even want from her?  It’s tragic to learn that her daughter -- Caroline’s daughter -- is sick, but what can she do?  She’s a psychology grad student, not a medical doctor. She dries her eyes -- she hadn’t even realized she had been crying -- and taps her fingers on the keyboard.  Leukemia...bone marrow transplant? Perhaps? Wasn’t that a way to treat leukemia, besides chemotherapy and radiation?
 
She starts to mentally compose a list of things she needs to do.
 
One, get information from Babs, everything she can get.  Two, research leukemia. Three, give Annabelle a huge hug as soon as she sees her and make a doctor appointment as soon as possible.  Four, meet with Caroline?
 
She feels hungry, so lunch is actually first on that list.  She’s already worried about one child; she doesn’t need to worry about another.  She pushes herself up to get some lunch that won’t give her heartburn, something she is pretty good at now.  She reheats some of last night’s pasta and pours herself some juice. It’s a weird multi-vitamin mix that doesn’t taste

bad

but doesn’t really taste that great either.  However, it’s supposed to be incredibly healthy for you, which means Jason keeps on buying it and she keeps on drinking it.
 
She eats lunch quickly and silently, instead of watching trashy TV like she normally would do on her dissertation break.  She hasn’t even opened it yet today, and she doubts she will, until the Madeleine situation is settled. She just doesn’t know what to

feel

-- what she is allowed to feel.
 
Madeleine isn’t hers, not anymore.
 
Without thinking of it, her phone is in her hands and she hits the speed dial button.
 
“Hey, what’s up?”  Jason’s voice comes through.  He sounds a bit rushed, and a look at the time means he’s probably getting ready for his next class.  She may be done with teaching and only has writing left, but he still teaches and has to do his prospectus before he can move on to writing his dissertation.
 
“My daughter, the one I gave up when I was sixteen?  She has leukemia.” She bites back a sob. Suddenly all the emotion she has been holding back is there.  “Jay, they want to meet with me. She has

cancer

.”
 
“Wait, what?  Cancer? Let me -- hold on.”  He stops and she can hear him muttering to someone else and papers rustling before he comes back on the line.  “Your daughter has cancer?”
 
“

Yes

.”  She sniffs.  “She’s not even mine, not anymore, but it’s

cancer

, Jay.  I don’t know what to do!”
 
“I -- how did you find out?”  He sounds composed on the phone and she finds she needs the exposure to his composure.  
 
“Her adoptive mother emailed me.  She wants to meet tomorrow at noon to talk about it.”  She twiddles her fork in her hand. “I said -- well, I wrote the email saying yes, but I haven’t sent it yet.  I wasn’t sure if it was right.”
 
“Why don’t you read it to me?”  
 
She sniffs again.  “Okay.” She gets up slowly and goes back to the computer, which she moved away to eat.  “So I wrote, ‘Dear Caroline’ -- that’s the adoptive mother’s name -- ‘thank you for your email.  I am indeed free Saturday at noon. I will meet you at the Greenhouse Cafe. Sincerely, Stephanie.’  Does that sound all right?”
 
“It sounds fine to me,” he says.  “Look, are you sure it’s your daughter?”
 
“I’m sure,” she chokes on a sob, “I asked Babs to look into it, first thing as soon as I saw the email.”
 
“All right, I’m cancelling my class and coming home.  I’ll be there in about an hour fifteen, hour thirty.”
 
“No!  Don’t -- don’t cancel class because of me.  I’ll be fine.” She sniffs a few more times.  “I’m just over emotional because of the pregnancy.”
 
“I don’t think this is one of those over emotional pregnancy things,” he says carefully.  “I think it’s a completely valid reason to be upset.”
 
“I know but --”

“But nothing, Steph.  I’m coming home.” He pauses.  “Are you okay being alone until I get there?  You know anyone in the family would drop everything and come to stay with you.”
 
“I’m fine, but thanks.”  She fumbles for a paper towel and blows her nose.  “I’ll manage.”
 
“I think you’re a liar,” he says affectionately, “but I’ll see you soon.”    He hangs up.
 
Left alone in silence once again.  She doesn’t

want

to bother people, and the rational side of her knows that it’s not bothering them at all.  But she

can’t

just call up someone and expect them to drop everything for her, and she doesn’t want them to do it either.  Jason leaving everything is bad enough, and they’re engaged.
 
She looks down at her phone again, and goes to Babs’ number this time.  It rings a couple of times, before Babs picks up. “Oh Stephanie! Hey.” She sounds a bit harried.  “Do you want an update?”
 
“Yes, please.”  She hopes her voice sounds at least somewhat normal now, after getting all emotional with Jason.
 
“I was actually going to call you, because I found something interesting.”  Babs says, while still typing away. “Did you know that Bruce has been funding Madeleine’s cancer treatment?”
 
“Wait, what?”  Stephanie leans forwards, though it’s hard to fully do with her stomach.  “I don’t understand.”
 
“He’s doing it through proxy, but it traces back to a Gordon Selkirk, which is a very early alias of Bruce. One,” Barbara adds as an after-thought, “I don’t even think Dick would put together, without research.”
 
“So Bruce not only somehow knows that Madeleine had leukemia but was paying for it?  Do the Matherses know?” This was...both surprising and completely unsurprising, knowing Bruce.
 
“They know that an anonymous donor is paying for it.  To use the funding, they have to submit a letter stating what they want to use it for, and receipts after the fact.  But the hospital won’t tell them more on Mr. Selkirk’s -- Bruce’s -- request.”
 
“Of course.”  Stephanie sighs.  “This is...” Suddenly, she wants to go talk to Bruce.  Immediately. “Thanks, Babs.”
 
“I’ll keep digging -- I’ve almost got a complete profile on them.  They’re pretty simple to investigate: everything’s above board. Bye.”  Babs hangs up.
 
Stephanie stands up, and stretches her back.  She wants answers, and right now the only place she can go to get some is Bruce.
 
***
 
A quick call to the manor and Alfred let her know that Bruce was at Wayne Enterprises.  She pulls up to one of the family parking spaces in the parking garage and gets out of the car carefully.  She ignores the attendant and stalks -- as best as she can -- to the elevator to the lobby. Unfortunately, to get anywhere else in the building, you need to be signed in.
 
She steels herself and watches people get out of her way, which makes her feel a little bit better.  She can only imagine what she looks like: a largely pregnant woman doing the murder walk to the front desk.
 
“Hello, ma’am,” the clerk says, her name tag reading Julie.  “How can I help you?”
 
“I need to see Bruce Wayne immediately.”  
 
In a perfect world, or even just a good day in this one, the clerk would recognize her and send her up.  But Stephanie doesn’t spend all that much time around Wayne Enterprises, and it’s not surprising (unfortunately) that the clerk doesn’t know who she is.
 
“I’ll have to call up to his secretary.  Are you expected?”
 
“No, I’m not expected.  But he’ll see me.” He may not

want

to see her, especially after what she wants to confront him with, but there’s no escaping, especially not at work.
 
“Can I have your name?”  Stephanie complies. Julie picks up the office phone and presses a button.  “Hello, Evan, there is a Stephanie Brown here to see Mr. Wayne, but she has no appointment.” A pause. “ Yes, all right..  I’ll tell her.” She hangs up the phone.
 
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Wayne is in meetings all day.”  Julie smiles at her. “Is there anyone else I can contact for you?”
 
“No, there’s no one else I want to see.”  Stephanie puts her hands flat on the counter.  “Trust me, he’ll see me. You just need to wave me up.”
 
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that.  Not only is he in meetings today, but he only takes visitors with appointments.”
 
She leans forward as much as her stomach allows.  “I’m not a visitor, I’m his daughter-in-law.” Not completely true, since she and Jason weren’t married -- yet -- but close enough.  They’d set a date eventually.
 
Julie gave her a disbelieving look.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it doesn’t matter who you are, he’s busy all day.  Try coming back next week or setting up an appointment.”
 
“But I need to see him

now

.”
 
“I understand that, but I can’t help you.”  Julie turns back to her computer.
 
“Look, you don’t understand.  It’s important that I see him

now

.  I just found out that my daughter has

cancer

and I can’t --”  Shit, she’s going to cry again.  She presses her eyes shut and opens them again, blinking back tears.  “I need to talk to him.”
 
“If you’re his daughter-in-law, then you know how to contact him.”  Julie replies, unhelpfully. She continues, “But I’m sorry your daughter has cancer.”  She lifts a box of tissues to the counter, and Steph takes one.
 
“Thanks,” she mutters.  “Look, I could call him up right now,” she gets her phone out of her purse and waves it, “but I want to talk to him

in person

.”  Because yelling at him for not telling her was much more satisfying that way.  
 
“Look,” Julie leans forwards, “if he or his secretary calls down and says it’s okay -- if

anyone

on the upper levels okayed it, even -- I would let you in.  But you have to understand that I can’t just let anyone up to see Mr. Wayne, even if they’re claiming to be his daughter-in-law or a child or whatever.  This is Gotham,” she rolls her eyes, “you won’t believe what some people will claim.”
 
“I get it, I do.”  Stephanie sighs. She

does

get it.  But why does Wayne Enterprises have to have such efficient employees?  “I can show you family photos?” She starts looking through her pictures.  There’s got to be at least one picture of her with Bruce. Of course, she can’t find any.  Julie keeps looking back to her computer screen. Okay so maybe she’s not finding any with Bruce at the moment, but she

knows

she has to have at least one with her and Tim.  Tim works here, unlike Jason. She keeps on scrolling, squinting at the mini pictures.

There.

“Like Tim -- Tim Wayne-- at his wedding?  I’m in the wedding party! I was Tim’s groomsmaid.”
 
“Groomsmaid.” Julie says flatly, but she takes the phone from her and peers at the photo.  It’s a good shot of Tim and her. She’s wearing a crimson dress with a removable gold sash, and Tim in his tux with a gold vest and red bow tie is next to her.  They’re both grinning, and Tim has an arm flung over her shoulder. “It’s a nice photo,” Julie finally says, looking up, “but I still can’t let you in.”
 
“But clearly I’m not some random person off the street!”  Steph takes her phone back. “Look, I wanted to surprise him, but if you tell him that Stephanie Brown wants to see him, he’ll see me!  I know it!”
 
“But Mr. Wayne is still in meetings and asked not to be disturbed.”  Julie isn’t moving.
 
“

Ugh

.”  Steph takes a hand to her temple.  “Please? Surely there’s a quick minute while he moves between meetings!”
 
“I don’t know Mr. Wayne’s schedule,” Julie replies calmly.  “And I can’t help you.” She finally turns completely to her computer and continues doing whatever she was doing before Steph came.
 
“Then -- then -- call Tim!  He’ll let me up!” She flounders for a moment.  
 
Julie gives her an exasperated look, but picks up the phone once more.  “Hello, Lena? This is Julie from the front desk. I have a Stephanie Brown here to see Mr. Wayne.  She doesn’t have an appointment.” She covers the mouth piece, and double-checks, “you don’t, do you?”
 
“No, I don’t have an appointment.”  Stephanie stops herself from snapping.  It’s not fair to snap at people who are just doing their jobs, especially people who are doing

too

well at doing their jobs.  
 
“Yes, no appointment.” Julie turns back to the call.  “Is he available?” A pause. “Oh? Very well then. Thank you.”  She hangs up, and turns to Stephanie again. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Wayne is also busy in meetings all day.”
 
Stephanie feels like screaming.
 
“All right,

fine

.”  She holds up her phone.  “I’ll just

call

Tim.”  She pushes his name in her speed dial, and then thrusts it at Julie so she can see the name Tim Drake.  “

See?

I’m calling him.”
 
“Very well, ma’am. Is there anything else I can do for you?”  
 
Stephanie just holds up a finger as the phone rings.  Tim can tell Julie to let her in. Tim can tell Julie to let her in to see

Bruce

, that is once he answers his blasted

phone

.  Which he is not.  Because he is in meetings all day.
 
She hangs up and puts her phone away.  “Look. I understand your situation. But I

really

need to see Bruce, and I’m getting tired of standing, and this is just getting ridiculous.”
 
“Maybe you should sit down, ma’am.”  Julie motions to some chairs in the lobby.  “You can sit there.”
 
Stephanie does not

want

to sit down.  Sitting down will just distract her from her mission, which is to see Bruce and find out why he’s been paying for Madeleine’s treatment expenses and never told her.  Sitting down will make her think more about Madeleine and make her upset. Sitting down is not an option.
 
“I’ll stand.” She replies curtly, and then softens her tone.   “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be annoying. I just really...” her words die off.  There -- behind the glass to the rest of the first floor -- an elevator opens, and out steps Tim along with a group of other important looking people in business suits.  She can’t make out what they’re saying, but it’s apparently a farewell of some sort, as there’s a lot of hand shaking as the group separates from Tim. He looks back at the elevator, and she can tell he’s about to return to his office.
 
“Wait!

Tim

!” She goes to the glass and bangs on it once.  Everyone in the lobby turns to look at her. Immediately Julie -- and a security guard -- are standing next to her.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”  The security guard says.
 
“

TIMMY

!” She yells louder, moving her shoulder out of the security guard’s reach.  
 
Tim whirls around -- and finally sees her.  He says something to the group of men he just left, before making his way to the front lobby.  “Steph? What are you doing here? What do you want?”
 
“Mr. Wayne -” The security guard begins, but Tim holds up a hand.  
 
“It’s fine, Sherman.  Julie. You can go back to your stations.”
 
“Of course.”  They both turn and leave.
 
Tim stands in front of her, his eyes wide.  “What’s going on? Is it the baby? Have you called Jason?”  He reaches out to grab her arm. “Do you need to sit down?”
 
She wrenches her arm out of his grasp -- a bit more violently than she intended.  “I’m fine, just annoyed, and I

don’t

want to sit down.  I need to see Bruce.”
 
“Bruce?”  Tim looks confused for a moment.  “Why -- nevermind,” he says, shaking his head.  “Bruce is in meetings all day.

I’m

in meetings all day, except I took the time to show the Herrera group out.”
 
“It’s

important

, Tim.”  She spies Julie watching them out of the corner of her eye.  “Please? I won’t take long, I just need to talk to Bruce about something.”
 
Tim sighs.  
 
“

Please

?” She tries again.
 
“This really isn’t a good day, Steph.  Are you sure it won’t wait?” But Tim looks like he’s beginning to give in.  
 
“I need to see him now.”  She looks at him once again.  “I promise not to be long. I just...need to do this.  Now. In person.”
 
Tim sighs again.  “All right,” he says.  He turns to Julie. “Julie, I need a VIP visitor badge for Stephanie Brown.  Better make it a permanent one,” he adds on, frowning, “I’m actually surprised you don’t already have one.”
 
“Well, I mean, I don’t exactly come to Wayne Enterprises often,” she admits.  Julie, for her part, says nothing but merely does

something

at the computer.  
 
“Look at the camera, ma’am.” Julie lifts a small camera on a tripod to the top of the counter.  “On the count of three: one, two, three.” Stephanie dutifully looks at the camera and hears the click.  “All right, the pass should be printing right now.”
 
“Thank you,” both Tim and Stephanie say.  
 
Tim waits with her while it prints out. “You know, you can go,” she says.  “Julie and I are old friends now.”
 
Tim quirks a smile. “Is that so?”
 
“Ms. Brown and I have become acquainted, you could say,” Julie says dryly.  “Here’s your pass, ma’am. Turn it in when you leave today, and ask for it next time you come.”  She holds it out. “It won’t grant you instant access to everyone, but it will definitely speed things up.”
 
“Great.”  Steph takes it, and attaches the clip to the bottom of her shirt.  
 
Tim holds his arm out to her, and she takes it.  “Let’s go find Bruce, then.”
 
***
 
She has to wait a few minutes for Bruce’s meeting to finish -- he had been in a different one than Tim -- but she can do that.  She jumps up from her chair as best she can as soon as he enters the executive area where his office and secretary are.
 
He doesn’t seem to notice her at first, instead going straight to his secretary.  “Evan, I’ll need -”
 
“Bruce.”  Stephanie interrupts, shooting an apologizing smile at Evan, who seems to be quite a nice man now...which is probably her new VIP visitor badge and Tim’s doing.  Getting brought up to the boss’s office by another boss -- and heir apparent -- definitely helps her standing.
 
He whirls, and a part of her grins at surprising Batman.  “Stephanie? What are you doing here?”
 
“Mr. Drake brought her up,”  Evan supplies. “Ms Brown wants to talk to you.”
 
“I see.”  But Stephanie can tell from his eyes that he doesn’t see. “Well, come on, then.”  He holds out a hand, inviting her into his office. “What can I do for you?”
 
She doesn’t take his hand but walks in front of him, plopping herself into the admittedly comfortable chair in front of his desk, instead of the settee set on the other side of his office.  She waits until he is seated, his hands steepled in front of him, before speaking.
 
“I want to know why and how long you’ve been paying for my daughter’s leukemia treatment.”
 
Bruce looks at her wanly.  “I was unaware that Annabelle had leukemia.  I’m sorry to hear that.”
 
“Don’t joke with me, Bruce.”  She adjusts her posture. “I know about Madeleine Mathers and that she’s my daughter.”
 
“Oh.”  Bruce leans back in his chair, his hands now in his lap. “I see.”  He says nothing else.
 
“I want to know why, Bruce.  And why didn’t you

tell

me?”  She looks at him,

daring

the tears to come back.  
 
“I have been paying for her treatment ever since she got diagnosed -- so three years now.”  Bruce keeps his gaze on her. “I told you once that I would make sure she would want for nothing.”
 
“You said that to a teenage girl who you thought was dying.”  Stephanie sniffs. “I didn’t think you

meant

it.”
 
Bruce frowns.  “Of course I meant it.”  He reaches to the side of his desk and hands her a tissue.  She takes it, but just holds it in her lap. “The Matherses had already adopted her at that point.  Jeffrey Mathers was employed at Wayne Tech, actually, so I knew they would provide a stable and good life for Madeleine.  But,” he pauses, “I kept my eye on them, especially when they left Gotham. And when I saw the opportunity -- even an upper middle class couple can be ruined by medical expenses -- I stepped in.”
 
This conversation isn’t going like she expected.  For one thing, it’s a lot more reasonable than she thought it would be.  Perhaps the drama is all out of her, after what she had to go through to get let up to Bruce’s office in the first place.  Or perhaps it’s that she’s

tired

now.  In any case, she finds she can’t be mad at him, at least not for helping out.
 
But she can still be mad at him for not telling her.
 
“You never told me,” she accuses him.  “You never said a word.”
 
“I didn’t think you wanted to know.”  He holds out his hands to the side. “You came back from Africa and never mentioned her again.  You went to college. You took on another role,” he alludes to Batgirl, “you made a name for yourself and got to know and actually

date

Jason.”  He shrugs.  “I had no idea that you wanted to be alerted to her illness.”
 
“I did those things because I had to grow up, Bruce.”  She’s crying again, darn it. “But that doesn’t mean I

forgot

her.  I’ll never forget about her.  It’s like --” she bites her lip.  “When Jason came back to life -- when he wasn’t with you -- wouldn’t

you

want to have known, even if he couldn’t be with you?”  
 
“That’s not the same thing.” Bruce immediately turns defensive.  Jason hadn’t been

persona non grata

in years, especially not after they started to date, but the years dealing with Jason’s death, resurrection, and the few years afterwards were not exactly pleasant topics.  “I didn’t know he was alive. And he

could

have been with me --

should

have been with me, not with Talia.”
 
“Yeah, well, Madeleine could have been with me as well.”  Steph glares at him. “But I chose a closed adoption because I wanted to keep her safe from all the crazies, including my own

father

, not because I didn’t want her.  I figured she was happy and healthy all this time, and then I find out that not only is she sick, but she’s been sick for

years

. Which is bad enough,” she continues, “until I learned that

you

knew the entire time.”
 
“Look, Stephanie, I didn’t hide it from you because I wanted to hurt you.”  Bruce leans forwards. “I honestly thought you wouldn’t want to know. You have your own life.  I didn’t think you wanted or needed the extra

grief

that comes with a dying child.”
 
“You should have told me.”  She insists, sniffing.
 
“Perhaps I should have,” he admits quickly.  “But what’s done is done. You know now.”
 
She looks up at him with tear-filled eyes.  “Would you have told me if she died?”
 
Bruce keeps her gaze.  “No.”
 
***
 
There isn’t much to say after his admission, and she walks out of his office in a daze.  She stands there, watching Evan and the rest of the secretaries do their jobs. It’s a regular day for everyone but her, it seems.  Everyone else doesn’t seem to grasp the intensity of it. She fumbles for her phone and pulls it out, unsure of what to do next. Looking down, she frowns.
 
Several missed calls and texts -- all from Jason.

Oh shoot

.
 
She forgot he was on his way home.
 
She hits the redial button and makes her way to the elevators.  “Hey, Jay.”
 
“Steph!  Where are you? Are you all right?”  He blurts out. “Is there anything I can do?”
 
“I’m at Wayne Enterprises, actually.”  She sniffs. Again. “I was seeing Bruce.”
 
“Bruce? Why did you want to see him?”  Jason sounds puzzled. “Look, I’ll come and get you -”
 
“Don’t be silly,” she shakes her head, even though he can’t see it.  “Look, I’m getting into the elevator now. But really, just wait for me at home.”
 
“All right.”  He pauses. “Love you,” he says softly, and then hangs up.
 
She gets into the elevator and stashes her phone away.  Various people get in the elevator during the ride down, but none of them seem to pay her much mind.  She gets out at the lobby and hands over her visitor pass to Julie, who takes it and stashes it away in a filing cabinet.  
 
“Next time you come, just ask for your badge,” she says.
 
“Great,” Stephanie answers, even though she doesn’t feel all that great.
 
It’s after two in the afternoon now, so still too early to pick up Annabelle.  She gets in the car and drums her fingers on the steering wheel. There’s a part of her that doesn’t want to go home, but she needs to -- if anything, to put Jason’s fears at rest.  Like she had said to Tim, it wasn’t usual for her to go to Wayne Enterprises, and since Jason knows about Madeleine’s leukemia, it doesn’t surprise her that he went into mother hen mode.
 
She pulls out of her space and makes the drive home in silence instead of her usual up-beat music.  The moment she steps inside the apartment, Jason is there.
 
“Hey, how are you feeling?”  He puts his arms around her.
 
“I’m all right,” she says, lying only a little.  “Exhausted,” she admits truthfully, “but holding in there.”
 
“I’m not sure I believe you,” he says, drawing her over to the couch.  “I put on

Lilo and Stitch

,” he continues, as they sit down.  “I thought it might cheer you up.” She looks at the TV screen.  It’s a large TV, taking up half the wall, and the Walt Disney logo is displayed on it in a greenish tint -- the beginning of the movie.  
 
“Did you email Caroline Mathers back?”  Jason hands her a cup of vanilla pudding -- a favored treat this pregnancy.  
 
“Oh shoot, I think I forgot.”  She winces. She starts to get up again. “I should -”
 
“You should stay sitting there and

I’ll

get the computer.”  He pulls her back down and stands himself, shuffling to the kitchen table and fetching her laptop.  
 
He’s back in seconds, putting it on the coffee table in front of her. “There you go!”
 
“Thanks,” she mumbles, and looks at the screen, where the email is still displayed.  “I guess I should just send it.”
 
“Yeah.”  
 
She closes her eyes and clicks the send button.  “It’s done.”
 
They don’t talk about Madeline the rest of the night.  Once Peyton drops Annabelle off after ballet, Stephanie has to focus on her instead, and Annabelle is such a joyful bunch of energy that it’s

hard

to think about sad things like leukemia.  They make dinner together and watch more Disney movies and practice soccer -- or at least Jason and Annabelle do, while Stephanie watches.  It’s

nice

, she thinks, and then feels guilty for thinking that even though she shouldn’t be.
 
The entire family goes to bed early that night -- even Jason, who announces over his com that he’s taking the evening off.  Bruce just grunts over the line, though Stephanie can hear everyone else wondering why. Friday is usually peak patrol night for the entire family, after all.
 
“It’s

personal

.” Jason bites out, and shuts the comm off.
 
“Ugh, my family.” He crawls into bed.
 
She laughs.  He puts his arms around her and hides his face in her shoulder.  “They love you,” she says quietly.
 
“I know,” he sighs into her neck.  “I know.” He then looks up, his arm around her.  “Everything will be okay, Steph.”
 
***
 
The next morning is hectic.  
 
Annabelle dislikes getting up early on weekends even more than she dislikes it during the week, and Steph never did end up buying Cheerios. On the other hand, Annabelle is quieted with Fruit Loops, even though Steph wishes she’d eat something a bit healthier before a soccer game.
 
Not that soccer for five year-olds was particularly strenuous.
 
“You okay?”  Jason comes over from tying Annabelle’s cleats.  
 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she mutters. “Sleepy, but otherwise fine.”  She stifles a yawn.
 
She tries to focus on the positive, but it’s hard, when she’s meeting Caroline Mathers that day.  She received a response from Caroline this morning, stating merely that she would be there. She has no idea what to expect.  Babs had sent her an email full of information on the Mathers family, anything and everything that she had found, including tax documents and copies of their Facebook pages, but Stephanie had barely paid it a look yesterday evening, too emotional and then getting distracted by Annie who wanted to watch

another

movie with her parents.
 
“Thinking about her?” Jason murmurs in her ear.
 
“Yeah.” Steph sighs.  “Of course.” There’s no question who the “her” is.  “I’m just...” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.  We got to get to Annabelle’s game!” She claps her hands together, and Annabelle looks over and grins at her.
 
“We’re going to

win

today!”  Annabelle cheers, jumping up and down in her relatively new cleats -- this is the second soccer game ever for her.  
 
“YES, we will!”  Jason comes over to swoop her up.  “Let’s go!”
 
“Let’s go, Mommy!”  Annabelle giggles.
 
“Let’s go,” Steph says with a smile on her face.  Annabelle’s good humor is just so

infectious

.
 
The ride in the car is pretty quick and Annabelle spends most of it chattering away about the game, her team, and the rivalry she has with her cousin Ben.  “Ben’s team won last week, but

we’re

going to win this week.”
 
“Chicken, you’re not playing Ben this week.”  Soccer in Gotham at the kindergarten level is a coed game, so last week they

had

played Ben Grayson’s team, a surprise to both sets of parents.  
 
“Daddy, we’re not?”  She stops kicking her feet against the booster seat.  “Who are we playing then?”
 
“It’s the Panthers against the Sharks,” Stephanie answers.  “That’s all I know, sweetie.”
 
“We’re going to beat the Sharks then!”  Annabelle starts kicking again.
 
“Honey, can you please stop kicking?”  Stephanie winces when Annabelle kicks the back of her seat.  “But I’m glad you’re so excited.”
 
“Soccer is awesome!”  But her feet still and Steph sighs in relief.
 
Soon they’re at the park.  Last week Stephanie had been there, of course, but she hadn’t spent much time with the other parents, as she hadn’t been feeling that great.  Today she feels better -- physically, at least. Jason sets up her chair for her on the sidelines by where the kids are practicing. She takes a seat and leans back, sun in her face as she closes her eyes.
 
Does Madeleine play a sport?  At least did she before she got sick?  Could you continue to play sports after leukemia?  Her eyes fly open. She never did get around to looking up leukemia either, letting Jason and Annabelle distract her.  She feels guilty again. And she didn’t make the appointment with Annabelle’s doctor either.
 
“Hi, I’m Grace.”  A woman stops in front of her.  “I recognized you from last week, but I didn’t get the chance to say hi.”
 
“I’m Stephanie.” She holds out a hand and they shake.  
 
“Which kid is yours?”  Grace asks, motioning to the team, which is now huddling together with their coach, one of the dads.  
 
“Mad- I mean Annabelle.  Um, the girl with the purple headband.” How could she have made that mistake?  “And yours?”
 
“Riley, the boy with the spiky hair.”  Grace laughed. “He insisted on gelling it this morning.  Wanted to look fierce.”
 
Stephanie had to smile at that.  “Annabelle spent most of the morning and car ride here chattering about the game.”
 
“Is Annabelle your only child, I mean besides,” Grace’s eyes light upon Steph’s belly once before looking back up. “I have a seven year-old, Malcolm, but my wife is at

his

game today.  Just had to happen that we have two soccer players in the family, and their games are at the same time across town.”
 
Stephanie nodded.  “Yeah, Annabelle and then this little guy,” she patted her stomach.

And Madeleine

, her thoughts taunted, but she shakes her head.  Now was

not

the time to worry.  She owed the time to Annabelle.
 
“Hey Steph.  And, um -- Gray?”  Jason comes over from talking with a couple of dads.
 
“Grace,” Grace corrects graciously.  “Jason?”
 
“Yep!”  He flops down on his own chair.  “And Riley is your kid, and your wife’s name is Michelle.”  He grins. “Tell me I got that right.”
 
“You forgot Malcolm,” she teases at him, instantly at ease.  Steph, if she weren’t so confident, may have been a bit jealous, but Jason is just really good -- like a lot of the Bat family -- at putting people at ease.  Even Bruce could do it. “But good job.”
 
“Ahh, Malcolm.  Your other son?”  Jason looks around.  “Is he here today? I noticed that Michelle wasn’t here.”
 
“No, Michelle is at Malcolm’s game.”  Grace shrugs. “With two kids relatively close in age, conflicting sports are going to happen.”
 
“Guess so,” Jason agrees.
 
The ref blows the whistle and the two teams start to line up.  The Panthers are dressed in their purple uniforms while the Sharks are wearing grey and black. Regardless of what team they’re on, the kids on the field look absolutely adorable.  There are five on a field and no goalie this early on. They have a semblance of positions -- Annabelle is up front with the other “forwards” -- but if last week is anything to go by, the positions will disappear as the kids lapse into chaos and pretty much anything goes -- except no hands.
 
Grace goes back to her own chair, and Stephanie and Jason are left alone to watch the game.
 
Stephanie can’t concentrate though.
 
She feels guilty, telling people she only has one daughter.  But while Madeleine biologically may be hers, she has other loving parents.  Madeleine doesn’t

need

Stephanie in her life right now, at least not as a mom, whatever the reason for Caroline’s email may be.  
 
“Wait to see what Caroline wants,” Jason leans over and comments in her ear.  “It’s less than three hours. But right now Annabelle needs her mom to pay attention.”
 
“Right.” Right.  She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and tries her best to pay attention to the game.  
 
After the game, the team decides first to play on the playground and then to get donuts at a nearby bakery, and everyone tags along.  Surrounding by five year-olds, Stephanie has to concentrate on the matter at hand, which is taking everyone’s orders. One of the other parents generously agrees to pay for the donuts, but Stephanie seems to be in charge of making sure everyone

gets

one.  It’s a good distraction.
 
Too good of a distraction, because it’s after eleven and she’s still wearing her soccer viewing clothes, which consist of her yoga pants and a dark blue oversized t-shirt and flip-flops.  
 
“I feel like I should be dressing for a business meeting,” she mutters to Jason, her head buried in her closet.  Jay just laughs. “No, really -- this feels like an interview.”
 
“It probably is, in a way.  You’re her daughter’s birth mother -- she’s probably comparing herself to you, just like you are to her.”
 
“I’m not comparing myself to her -- I don’t even

know

her.  I’m just...”  She pulls out of her closet.  “I’m just

worried

. The only thing I can think of for leukemia and needing a relative is a bone marrow transplant, and I meant to read up last night but...”
 
“But Annabelle and I distracted you.”  Jason comes to her and pulls her into his arms.  “Look, I’m sorry but you needed it. It’s been just twenty-four hours since you found out about Madeleine, and this is just the beginning.  Go see what Caroline wants.” He pecks her lips. “Do you want me to come with? We can drop Annabelle off at one of my brothers’ or your mother’s.”
 
“No,” she sighs, pulling away from him.  “No, I think I need to do it alone.” She starts to strip off her old clothes to change.  “But thanks. I just need to get this meeting over with and find things out.”
 
“Google says leukemia is pretty treatable,” Jason reads from his phone.  “So go and meet Caroline and maybe Madeleine just wants to know about you or something.”
 
It can’t be that, because St. Swithin’s wouldn’t have released her information unless it was medically necessary, and just wanting to meet her -- despite having leukemia -- wouldn’t be enough.  But she appreciates the thought anyways. “Maybe,” she says.
 
She finishes pulling on a pair of her maternity jeans and a pale lilac maternity blouse.  She brushes her hair and slips on a pair of black flats. She doesn’t look

amazing

, she thinks, but she looks presentable.  She grabs her purse, kisses Annabelle good-bye (Annabelle, for her part, barely looks at her mother while she plays Mario) and leaves the apartment.
 
Maybe everything will be all right.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The Greenhouse Cafe is not far from their new apartment.  Caroline could walk there if she wanted to, and because it’s a bright sunny day at the end of August, she almost does.  She would definitely if it weren’t Gotham, but despite her in-laws and Adrianna’s attempts to get her to see the good in Gotham, she still doesn’t feel comfortable walking around the city by herself.

Even

in broad-daylight.
 
She gets there early.  She chose the cafe because it received good reviews online and was in her neighborhood.  It’s pricey, but she can afford to pay for both their meals and drinks, since whatever a graduate student makes, it can’t be a lot.  The pictures online show a plant-ridden space with tables that afford some privacy -- just what she wants.
 
A server comes and asks Caroline if she’d like a table.   “Yes please,” she says. “I do. For two.” She is seated next to a trellis with roses, near the middle of the cafe.  She accepts the menu, though they won’t be ordering for some time -- Stephanie still has nearly twenty minutes to get there.  
 
She uses the time to look at her phone -- no important emails or anything she particularly cares about -- and to people watch.  These people are her people, she thinks, the ones who make her feel like she’s back in Boston instead of in Gotham. There are the brunch people still eating, and more lunch customers waltzing in.  The menu, when she finally decides to look, is pretty standard fare at prices just shy of too much. She’s been in restaurants like this before, but she doubts Stephanie has. There’s just this

presence

in places like this: you don’t come to them unless you have money to spare, and you don’t come for the food but to be able to say you’ve been.
 
Caroline finally orders an espresso, which comes in a tiny cup with a biscotti.  Stephanie still has five minutes to get there before she’s late. She already went to see Maddie this morning, and Jeff is still with her.  Unfortunately, Jeff has to fly back to Boston for work next week, which means he’s trying to spend as much time as he can with Maddie, and Caroline leaves him to it.  Maddie is weak from the chemo but generally well-spirited and is even making friends in the ward, which frightens Caroline just a little bit, even though she knows it’s necessary.
 
Jeff loves being back in Gotham, she can tell, and Maddie -- despite being in the hospital and seeing little of actual Gotham, seems to be comfortable there too.

It’s in her blood

, Rhonda -- and Adriana -- would probably say, but Caroline thinks of it more like a disease, creeping through her blood than a good thing.  Caroline hopes she never has a Gotham moment; even the possibility scares her.

With Maddie’s relapse and being back in Gotham and now with the added stress of Stephanie, she did not sleep well last night.  She remembers being excited -- a bit frightful but excited at the same time -- to start up with her new firm in Gotham, and receiving the phone call (and seeing it in the papers, though it didn’t even make the front page) that the firm had been fear-gassed.  “It sucks,” one of her potential associates said, “but it was an older version so the hospital had an antidote on hand.”
 
She just can’t understand Gotham.
 
A virus indeed, reeling people in and making them unable to leave.  
 
From where she’s seated, she can see the front door of the restaurant and the hostess station.  It’s two minutes until twelve when a blonde woman shows up, and Caroline just

knows

that it’s her.  She recognizes the bright blonde hair, though the woman’s face is rounder than in her photos.  And then she has to keep in a gasp because the blonde woman is heavily pregnant.
 
Caroline raises a hand to cue the hostess and Stephanie.  In person, Stephanie is just as pretty as in her photos. The rounded face and belly do not detract from it -- if anything, they just add to her prettiness.  She’s not what Caroline would call gorgeous, but she has a charm that would set people at ease. Dressed in a maternity blouse and jeans, she is possibly a tad underdressed for the cafe, but it somehow still works on her.  And the atmosphere of the cafe, she notices, does not catch Stephanie off guard at all: she approaches with grace -- or as much grace as you can when that pregnant.
 
Caroline stands as she approaches, and reaches out a hand.  “Hello, I’m Caroline Mathers.”
 
“Stephanie Brown,” she says, and gives Caroline’s hand a good shake.  “Nice to meet you.”
 
So the woman has manners, that’s good.  They both sit down.
 
The server comes over again to hand Stephanie a menu.  Stephanie accepts it with a “thanks” and peruses it. “Don’t worry about the prices,” Caroline says, causing Stephanie to look up, “I’m paying.”
 
“Oh, I can -” Stephanie starts, but Caroline shakes her head.
 
“No, really.  I will cover it.”  Caroline is the one in charge here.

She’s

Maddie’s mom.  Stephanie is doing her a favor, but that’s all that will come of it.  
 
“All right, then.”  Stephanie smiles softly.  “Thanks.” She goes back to the menu.  
 
Silence reigns until the server comes over again to get their orders.  Stephanie orders waffles with fresh strawberries while Caroline orders an omelette.  She’s not very hungry, but it is lunchtime and she plans to go to the hospital after this meeting.  And it is a meeting -- this isn’t a pleasure lunch. She even dressed the part: she is wearing business casual.  Not that she doesn’t often default to business casual - It’s not that she is against jeans or going casual, she simply feels more comfortable being dressed up.  Being prepared is the most important thing, and wearing the right clothing is just part of that preparation.
 
“So...” Stephanie finally breaks the silence.  “Madeleine has leukemia.” She pauses. “I’m sorry.”
 
“Yes,” Caroline murmurs, “she does.”  She adjusts the napkin in her lap, takes a sip of her water.  “I’m not sure how much you know about leukemia?”
 
“Not much,” Stephanie confesses.  “I meant to research last night but I was a bit...” she trails off.  “Well, my fiance and other daughter required my attention.”
 
“Other daughter?”  Caroline raises a brow.  “You have other children?”  
 
“Yes, well besides this guy,” she pats her stomach, “I have a five year-old daughter, Annabelle.”
 
“I see.”  Maddie will be happy, one part of her remarks.  But another part, a larger part, is boiling. She can’t even put words to

why

she’s upset, but she is.  This woman gave her Maddie, and now she has the one thing Maddie desperately wants: siblings.  She can’t hide this from Maddie, but it also pulls Stephanie even more into their lives.
 
“I, um, here.”  Stephanie pulls out a phone and hands it to her.  “That’s Annabelle and my fiance.” There’s a little girl with bright blue eyes and long wavy black hair, wearing a purple soccer uniform being hugged by a man with the same shade of hair and eyes.  They’re both grinning and looking at the camera, with a small soccer field behind them.
 
“You’re not married,” Caroline comments.  Maybe she’s old-fashioned, but by Stephanie’s age, if you want a baby the natural way, especially if you are in a relationship, she thinks you should be married to do so.  And clearly they’ve been together awhile, since it’s obvious he’s the father of her daughter. If they decided to have another baby together, Caroline can’t understand why they never married.
 
“No, we’re just engaged.”  Stephanie huffs a laugh. “Just never can find a good time for it.”  She smooths at the table cloth. “Have you and your husband been married long?”
 
“Nineteen years.”  Caroline says with pride.  “We met at law school and married soon after. We spent several years in New York before Jeff got the offer to go back to Gotham.”
 
“At Wayne Tech.”  Stephanie nods. “What caused you to leave Gotham?”
 
Caroline is thrown for a moment.  How did the woman know Jeff had worked at Wayne Tech? “Um, Gotham is not my city and never will be,” she decides to be somewhat honest, “and Jeff got an offer to work for Issacs and Melvony in Boston.”
 
“Gotham is definitely not for everyone,” Stephanie states.  “When did you move?”
 
“About nine years ago, when Maddie was three.” Caroline’s face softens.  “Just in time for her to start pre-school in Boston.”
 
“And you like it there?  Does Madeleine -- Maddie like it there?”
 
“I think it’s great.”  Caroline takes a sip of her water.  “And Maddie seems to like it there just fine.”
 
“It’s good to hear that,” Stephanie says softly.
 
“Yes, well,” Caroline says, and then stops.  “We’re good for her,” she says.
 
“Yes, I think you are.”  Stephanie tries to smile at that, but Caroline can tell it’s forced.  
 
“She was doing great -- until the leukemia,” Caroline says somewhat forcefully, trying to prove that yes, they

are

the best family for Maddie.  “And even with the leukemia, she’s been so strong.  She’s a very active girl -- it’s hard on her, being in the hospital now, after being in remission for a long time.”  Caroline looks down at her lap, then up again into Stephanie’s eyes. “She’s doing okay, but she could be doing even better.”
 
“Right,” Stephanie says.  “Of course.” She looks away.  “I never thought -” She cuts off.
 
“Neither did we, until it happened.”  Caroline tries again. “And then she was in remission and we thought that was the end of it, until two weeks ago.  It’s been...” She sighs. “It hasn’t been easy. But she’s part of a clinical trial at Gotham Children’s Hospital and the doctors seem hopeful.”
 
“I’m glad to hear that.”  Before she or Stephanie can say anything else, the food comes.
 
They fall quiet as they eat; the only sounds they make are the silverware scraping.  
 
Stephanie finishes first.  Caroline

wishes

she knew what it was like to be pregnant, but she doesn’t.  She can’t.
 
Even though she’s not done, she puts down her fork and knife, wipes her face.  “The clinical trial requires blood from a donor -- a family member, if at all possible -- to advance to the next stage.”
 
Stephanie looks up at her.  “I see,” she says.
 
“And even if it didn’t, after a relapse, if chemo isn’t fully helping, a bone marrow transplant is the next step.”  Caroline keeps her voice steady. “Best match is a full-blooded sibling, is there any chance-”
 
“No, Jason is not Madeleine’s father.”  Stephanie sighs. “And while I’m willing to be tested, I don’t think I can donate bone marrow

or

blood, until after I give birth.”  She looks down at her stomach. “I’m thirty one weeks pregnant -- thirty two come Monday.  That’s still a while to go. I don’t know...” She trails off, then finishes, “I don’t know if you can wait that long.”
 
“I don’t know either.”  Caroline is matter-of-fact.  “I don’t know much of anything at the moment, to be honest.” She hates to admit it, especially to Stephanie, but she can’t avoid it.  “We take everything on a day-to-day basis.”
 
“I understand,” Stephanie says, but Caroline wants to yell that she

can’t

.  How can this woman possibly understand what it is like to live every day one at a time, afraid that tomorrow may be your last? To watch your

daughter

fight a deadly condition, never knowing what the future may hold? “And I can get Annabelle tested, if that will help.”
 
Caroline steels herself, urges herself to calm down.  “Thank you,” she replies stiffly. “I will talk to Maddie’s doctors about it.”  A full-blooded sibling is the best choice, with a twenty-five percent of being a match, but perhaps a half-sibling will work, even if they’re not a full match.  Caroline remembers reading once that a half-match could work in some cases.
 
“And Maddie’s father?”  Caroline asks, after a moment of silence.  The server comes to take Stephanie’s plate away, and Caroline waves for hers to be taken as well.  “Is he a possibility?”
 
“Dean?”  Stephanie shakes her head.  “Goodness, I haven’t heard from Dean in

years

.  His name is Dean Sullivan,” she adds, “and I’ll try getting a hold of him.  I have no problem with you contacting him, I just don’t know much about him -- we were never really together; he left Gotham during the Quake and I saw him once after that.”  Of course -- the Quake, just one more reason Gotham was a cesspool. Luckily they were off visiting her parents when the quake happened.
 
Then there was No Man’s Land, and the least said about that, the better.  At least they got Madeleine after it.
 
“Thank you for the information.”  Caroline nods, trying to ignore the memories of Gotham’s horrid past.  “Anything that can possibly help, we will try.”
 
“I can try getting my mother tested?”  Stephanie offers, “but I don’t know if she’s close enough.”
 
“No,” Caroline tries not to show her absolute dismay at the possibility, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”  The

idea

of using the bone marrow of a former addict just

boils

her blood.  How could Stephanie even

consider

such a thing?  “I thank you for your time and compliance.” She tries to change the subject.
 
Stephanie takes the hint.  “Thanks for reaching out, though I wish this were years later and Maddie were healthy.”  
 
“As do I.”  Caroline purses her lips.  “As do I.”
 
The server brings the check and Caroline takes it.  Stephanie makes a face, and Caroline waits for whatever the other woman wants to say.  “I don’t suppose --” Stephanie finally ventures, “I don’t suppose I could see her?”
 
Caroline has hoped that it wouldn’t come to this, but unfortunately, it has.
 
“Maddie has been asking about you,” she finally says, signing the bill.  She waits until the server has come to take it away. “She would be...interested,” she chooses the words carefully, “in meeting you.”
 
“That’s -- that’s good.”  Stephanie smiles this time, a real smile.  “I -- I’ve been wondering. I never -- I never stopped thinking about her,” she admits.  “She wasn’t mine anymore, and I’m sure you gave her a great life, one that I couldn’t give her at the time.  But I always wondered. And then having another daughter, and being pregnant again -- she always comes back to my thoughts.”  She sniffs. “I just hate the way this has played out.”
 
“I will discuss it with my husband and Maddie’s doctors,” Caroline finally says, after a pause.  “If they agree, I will contact you about seeing her.” She takes her credit card back from the server.
 
“

Thank

you,” Stephanie says, rising from the chair.  “I’ll be waiting for it.” She grins hesitantly back at Caroline, then sombers.  “I wish I could do more.”
 
“You’ve done enough.” Caroline says, a bit more haughtily than she meant. She tries to soften her tone, “But thank you for coming.”  
 
She stays seated as Stephanie makes her way out of the restaurant.
 
***
 
“How did the meeting go?”  Jeff looks up as she enters Maddie’s hospital room.  Caroline pauses: the bed is empty. “Oh, she’s off in the craft room, finishing up a bird house.”  
 
“I see.”  Caroline takes a seat across from Jeff.  “It...went.”
 
“Will she get tested? Does Maddie have any siblings?”  Jeff puts his tablet off to the side on Maddie’s adjustable table next to the bed.  “How was she?”
 
“She’s nearly eight months pregnant,” Caroline blurts out.  “Which means that she probably

can’t

be a donor, blood or bone marrow, until she delivers, even if she were a perfect match.”
 
Jeff’s face falls.  “Can we wait that long?”  He rubs his chin. “But a sibling... at least Maddie will be happy.”
 
“She has a five year-old daughter as well.  All half-siblings,” Caroline clarifies at Jeff’s questioning look.  “She and Maddie’s biological father apparently were never really together and she hasn’t seen him in years.  She did give me his name, though, ‘Dean Sullivan.’”
 
Jeff pulls out his phone.  “I’ll get Nora on it immediately.”  She waits as he finishes texting.

“She seems...”  Caroline sighs. It was an awkward situation made worse by the leukemia.  “She seems nice enough,” she finally decides. “And she wants to see Maddie.”
 
“What did you tell her?”  Jeff asks carefully.
 
“I said I would discuss it with you and the doctors.”  She leans forwards. “I know Maddie definitely wants it.”
 
“Mm, yes, I guess the doctors should be in on it.  Maddie does get tired easily, and who knows what new people would do.”
 
“

A

new person.”  Caroline corrects.  “

If

we decide to let her visit and the visit goes well, she can bring Maddie’s half-sister and perhaps her...

fiance

.”  
 
“Oh she has a fiance?”  Jeff looks intrigued. “That’s nice.”
 
“It’s

not

nice -- he’s the father of her daughter and I presume of the baby as well.  They’ve been together long enough, they should be married.” Caroline huffs. “And I did the math -- she must have given birth to the daughter at twenty-three.  That’s young. And now! At twenty-eight, when she’s still in school!”
 
“Twenty-three isn’t young, she was probably graduated from college at that point.  In fact I find it somewhat impressive that despite having a baby, she managed to do graduate school, and is now having another child while still in it.”  Jeff says. “And,” he reminds Caroline, “

we

were twenty-eight when we first started to think about having children.”
 
“I know,” she snaps.  And then immediately puts her hand over her mouth.  “I’m sorry,” she says contritely. Jeff looks at her askance.  “I’m just...”
 
“I understand you’re nervous and stressed and more than a little jealous, but you shouldn’t take it out on me, and you definitely shouldn’t be so disapproving of a woman who seems willing to do us a huge favor.”
 
“Madeleine is her daughter, she should be jumping to do it.” Caroline pauses.  “

I’d

be jumping to donate if Madeleine were biologically mine.”  
 
And that’s what it comes down to, doesn’t it -- the fact that Stephanie was able to do something Caroline never could, and Caroline has to be

grateful

about it.
 
“She’s ours, you know.”  Jeff stands up and comes over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.  “Maddie is. Even if this Stephanie

wanted

to take her, there’s no way she could.  And it doesn’t sound to me like she’s planning on it.  She just wants to see her.”
 
Caroline leans into him.  “...I know.”
 
“Besides her not being married and being pregnant, what else did you learn about her?”  He comes to kneel down in front of her.
 
“Not much,” Caroline has to admit. “We didn’t talk much about ourselves.  We talked a little bit about Maddie and some about the testing, but that was it.”  At the time, she was glad that they didn’t get to know each other more. But now she wishes she could have more to tell Jeff -- and Maddie, who is certainly going to ask.  Maddie knows that she and Stephanie were going to meet today.
 
“I feel like we should get to know her better, especially if she needs to be the one to donate.  Or her little girl.” Jeff pats her knee and stands. “You know Maddie is going to be excited, and Stephanie seems like a decent person.”
 
“I still want that fiance of hers checked out before we allow him access, if we do at all.”  Caroline sniffs. She’d rather there be no contact between Stephanie’s fiance and Maddie whatsoever -- there isn’t really a need for it, after all -- but he

is

the father of Maddie’s half-sister, and if they allow Stephanie access, the next step is probably to allow her fiance access, however limited.
 
“Of course.”  He nods gravely, “I don’t want just random strangers around our girl.  But,” he says, catching Caroline’s eye, “we also have to give him a fair shot.  She’s an adult woman attending an Ivy League graduate program in psychology of all things; she probably has a good grasp on what makes a good person.”
 
“I guess.”  
 
“Did you get any information on him?”  Jeff takes his seat again.
 
“His name seems to be Jason, but more than that I don’t know.”  Caroline winces at the missed opportunity. “I should have asked her more information.”  She should have grilled Stephanie about her life, including her family and her fiance -- and even possibly about

his

family.  But the meeting was so awkward that it left her with more questions than answers.
 
“She offered to have her mother tested as well,” Caroline remembers.  “As if I would let a former addict near my daughter.”
 
“Mm,” Jeff says noncommittally.  “I don’t know.”
 
“Don’t tell me you’d be willing to let an addict near our daughter,”  Caroline says sharply.
 
“If she was former when Maddie was born, that’s already twelve years she’s been clean.”  Jeff shrugs. “If Stephanie’s mother is part of her life -- and it sounds like she might be -- then it might be safe.”  He hastily adds, after seeing Caroline’s look, “we’d need to have her whole history, of course.”
 
“I don’t like it, Jeffrey,”  Caroline states. “I don’t like it at all.”
 
“Caro,” he sighs, “I know.  But there’s honestly

nothing

in this situation you like.  And I don’t blame you,” he says, reaching out for her hand, which she hesitantly gives to him, “because it’s a really rough situation we’re in.

But

, we have to make the best of it.  And the first step seems to be allowing Stephanie to meet Maddie, and then going from there.”
 
“Is it true? Do I really get to meet her?”  Maddie speaks up. Simon, a nurse, has just wheeled her into the room.  
 
Her parents share a look.  “I -- we’re talking about it,” Caroline finally says.  “You know I met her today.”
 
“Is she nice?”  Maddie climbs into bed and pulls her blanket around herself, clutching Boo to her chest.  “What was she like?”
 
“She was nice.”  Caroline swallows.  “She, uh, she’s pregnant, and she has another daughter, who is five.”  She forces a smile. “I got to see a picture; you kind of look like her, in the face a bit.”
 
“I’m a big sister? How cool is

that

?”  She had been reaching for her tablet but let her hands drop.  “Tell me everything!”
 
“There isn’t really much to tell, honey.”  Jeff walks over to stroke her hair. “It was just a short meeting, right, Caro?”
 
“Right.”  Caroline is thankful for his intervention.  “We didn’t talk that much. But she is interested in seeing you,” she adds on, almost as an afterthought, as if the idea hadn’t been plaguing her since Maddie had first brought it up days ago.
 
“So when can I meet her?”  Maddie looks like she’d be bouncing if she were up to it.  “Tomorrow?”
 
“Um, that seems really short notice,” Jeff replies.  “We should check it out with your doctors first.”
 
“

Dad

, I’m fine!”  At Jeff’s raised eyebrow, she quiets a bit.  “Okay, so not

fine

, but I can take meeting my birth mother.  And my sister!”
 
“I think we may just limit it to Stephanie right now,” Jeff says.  
 
Maddie rolls her eyes.  “I guess.” Caroline wants to comment on the eye-rolling but restrains herself.  She

is

twelve after all.    
 
“Tell me about your birdhouse.” She changes the subject.
 
“Oh, it’s pretty cool -- they already came shaped as houses, we just painted them.”  She launches into a description of her paint job -- in a Wonder Woman pattern. Caroline sits back and lets Maddie’s voice wash over her.  Jeff adds his two cents, as they then change to talking about birds in general. Maddie has always wanted a pet, but neither of her parents have ever felt the need for one, and Caroline certainly isn’t going to get a bird.  Perhaps when Maddie is in remission again, they can come to some agreement regarding a pet.
 
If Maddie is in remission again.
 
Caroline gets up and excuses herself, but Jeff merely waves her on as they change topics again, now talking about dinosaurs.  She steps out of the room and into the hallway, leaning against the wall.
 
Dr. Spelling walks by and gives Caroline a nod -- she’s another one of Maddie’s doctors. There must be something in Caroline’s posture or on her face, because she stops in front of her.  “Tough day?”
 
“Maddie seems to be doing well,” Caroline deflects.
 
“She is.”  Dr. Spelling gets right to the point.  “I don’t suppose you contacted the birth mother?”  
 
“We met today.” Caroline closes her eyes and then slowly opens them.  “She is thirty-one weeks pregnant and doesn’t think she can donate because of that.”
 
“Oh.” Dr. Spelling shifts the chart in her hands.  “No, we won’t let pregnant women donate, and neither would her ob/gyn.”  She pauses, then asks, “Does she have other family?”
 
“A five year-old daughter, Maddie’s half-sister.  And she offered her mother, but -” Caroline shakes her head.  “I also found out the biological father’s name, so my husband has our private investigator tracking him down.”
 
“That’s good,” Dr. Spelling says.  At Caroline’s hesitant look, she nods.  “Really, you’re making progress. We didn’t have this progress a few days ago.”
 
“I didn’t -”  It just occurs to Caroline now, “I didn’t even get her

phone number

.  Or give her mine.”  She wants to laugh. “I just... it was so

awkward

. We barely talked.”
 
“Well, you can always contact her the way you used before? What was it, email?”  Dr. Spelling frowns in sympathy. “And if it was awkward for you, it was probably awkward for her as well.”
 
“I don’t know,” Caroline just wants to sink onto the floor.  “I suppose so. I just...”

I’m just so tired of being strong

.
 
Dr. Spelling puts an arm around her shoulders.  “Maybe some tea will do you good.” She steers her into the family waiting room.  “I have to do some rounds, but um,” she takes in the room and then spies someone. “Adriana -- have you met Caroline?”
 
Oh. Adriana.  
 
“We’ve met!”  Adriana gets up from a chair, where she had been talking to a man in Spanish -- probably her husband.  “Caroline, you do not look very good right now.”
 
“Thanks,” Caroline laughs under her breath.  “I -- I’m not feeling that great,” she finally admits.
 
“If you could - “ Dr. Spelling gestures with the chart to the coffee cart.  “I have to run. But I’ll be back to check in on Maddie later.”
 
“Thanks, Doctor.”  Caroline manages to get out, before sinking into a chair.
 
Suddenly all the emotions she’s been trying to hide the last two weeks come pouring out, and she can’t do anything but sob into her hands.  It’s just too much -- the leukemia, the chemotherapy, moving to Gotham, Stephanie... one at a time, she could have handled it. She handled leukemia and chemotherapy before!  It was rough, really rough, but she did it!
 
But now...with everything added to it, it just becomes this insurmountable stress, and there is no one she can talk to.  No one understands.
 
Adriana sinks down into a chair next to her and holds out a cup of tea.  “You look like you could use this.”
 
“Thanks,” she sniffs.
 
“It’s nothing,” Adriana waves off her thanks.  “How is Maddie doing?”
 
“All right.  Tired, and weak, but she painted a birdhouse today, and seemed to be into it, so...” Caroline shakes her head.  “It just

hits

me sometimes, that this is a relapse, that there’s no guarantee she’ll make it out alive.  And- and - I don’t

like

Gotham, but I’m stuck here, and it’s for Maddie’s sake so I can’t complain.  And then there’s

Stephanie

, who has two more kids and seems to be doing great and I don’t want her in our life but she has to be.”  She sniffs. “Man,” she looks up, blinking tears from her eyes, “I feel ridiculous.”
 
“It’s not.” Adriana holds out a tissue, and she takes it.  “We’re here because our children are sick -- really sick. It’s not easy.  And I don’t know who Stephanie is, but if she’s any kind of added stress, it makes sense that it’s hard on you.”
 
“Stephanie is her birth mother,” Caroline blows her nose.  “We’re in a clinical trial and they need blood from a donor -- a family member.  But Jeff and I are Maddie’s adoptive parents, and I found out today that Maddie has no full-blooded siblings, and Stephanie is pregnant so she’s not an option, and we don’t know where the biological father is.  So we have to wait. And Maddie is so excited about her new family but

we’re

her family.”  She sniffs. “And I can’t believe I just let that all out.”
 
“You needed to.”  Adriana pats her shoulder.  “It sounds like a tough situation -- even tougher than normal.”
 
“I just want my daughter to get better,” Caroline whispers, drying her eyes.  “

I’m

her mom, not Stephanie.”
 
“Of course you are -- you raised her.”  Adriana leans back in her chair. “One of my sisters is technically my cousin, but she’s my sister because she was raised by my parents when my mom’s sister couldn’t take care of her.  Doesn’t make her any less my sister. Just because you don’t share DNA with Maddie doesn’t mean you aren’t her parents.”
 
“I know.” Caroline sighs.  “I know. I just...want Maddie to get better.”
 
Adriana can’t stay for very long -- she and her husband and daughter need to go visit their son, who had wanted some privacy but texted that they could come back in.  But she

has

helped Caroline feel a bit better. Adriana tells her stories about her family, stories that were reminiscent of Caroline’s mother’s family, though she hasn’t seen them in years.  “Call me,” Adriana finally stands up to leave, “whenever you need to.” They exchange numbers.
 
“I will,” Caroline murmurs.  And maybe she actually will.
 
***
 
Caroline doesn’t know how much time she spends in the waiting room: there’s a clock, but she didn’t look at the time when she came in, and she doesn’t really pay attention to the passing of time.  Instead, she sits there and just thinks. Other families come in and leave, but they pay little attention to her. She isn’t sure if it’s because she has the look of someone who doesn’t want to be bothered, or if it’s regular protocol to ignore the other people there.  Adriana, so friendly and welcoming, seems to be the exception if that’s the case.
 
It’s Gotham, her mind supplies, so they could just be frigid.  
 
Of course, the people she’s met so far from Gotham are actually quite nice and not frigid at all, so it

could

be her general demeanor at the moment.
 
Stephanie honestly seems like a decent enough person.  Jeff is right -- doing a PhD while a parent is definitely impressive, and as a psychology student, she should be at least a semi-decent judge of character.  As much as Caroline wishes she could go back to the way things were, Stephanie is going to be at least a little part of their lives moving forwards, regardless if she or her daughter end up donating or not.  Maddie is too smitten with the idea of her for anything else.
 
She pulls out her phone and turns on the screen, navigating to her email.  They never exchanged phone numbers; now is the time to rectify that. She types up a quick email to Stephanie’s school account and asks whether that account should be used or if Stephanie has another account she’d rather use for contact.  Caroline adds her phone number and, after a moment’s hesitation, adds Jeff’s there too, in case of an emergency. Before she can doubt herself, she hits send.
 
She should go back to Maddie now, but she stays seated, watching people come and go from the room.
 
Eventually Jeff comes in and spots her sitting by the door.  He comes in and silently sits next to her, merely putting his hand over hers.
 
“She asleep?” Caroline finally says.
 
“No, a new friend came to hang out.”  He squeezes her hand. “She told me to tell you she loves you and to come back tomorrow.”  He pauses, “and she’s full of excitement about Stephanie.”
 
“I don’t know what to do,” she sighs.  “I emailed Stephanie for her number. And I gave her ours.”
 
“That’s good,” he says.
 
“Yes, well...” she trails off.  “Oh, Jeff, I don’t even know anymore.  I want to protect her so badly, but first she has leukemia and now it’s looking like our best shot of curing our daughter isn’t going to work.”
 
“We don’t even know if Stephanie is a match.  And Nora is going to track down the birth father.”  Jeff tries to reassure her.
 
“Yes well, there’s no telling what the birth father will be like.  I hate to admit,” she sighs, “but we lucked out with Stephanie.”
 
She’s spent the last two weeks worrying and none of her fears are coming to fruition regarding Stephanie.  So far she’s passed every test -- planned or not -- that Caroline has thrown at her or held her to. There’s really no reason, other than jealousy or Maddie’s doctors being against it, to keep her away from Maddie.
 
“What do you think about letting Stephanie -- just Stephanie right now -- visit?”  
 
Jeff looks a bit taken aback.  “I - I’m not against it. But are you -- are

you

okay with letting her visit?”
 
“I’m not against it.”  She repeats his own words back to him.  He gives her a skeptical look and she sighs.  “I’m not thrilled with it. I don’t

want

to have Stephanie in our lives.  But Maddie is so excited to meet her and she...seems like a good person.  I don’t think her presence will have an adverse effect on Maddie -- as long as the doctors okay it.”
 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think a shapeshifter had taken over your body.”  At her glare, Jeff holds up his hands. “Okay, okay, joking aside -- I’m proud of you.”
 
“Proud of me?”  She looks at him surprised.
 
“I know that you’re having a hard time, what with being in Gotham again and Maddie’s relapse and then the addition of Stephanie.  But really, you’re hanging in there.”
 
“Maybe,” she says.  She feels like she’s hanging by a thread that is slowly unraveling.   
 
“Really.”  He stands and pulls her up.  He’s a handsome man, just as he always was.  There’s some grey at his temples, but it doesn’t detract from his general looks at all, and she feels silly, in a way, thinking of this now, but his hands are warm on hers and he draws her into an embrace.  “I married you for a reason, Caro, and that is because I love you.”
 
“I love you too,” she murmurs against his shoulder.  There’s a part of her that wonders whether this is appropriate behavior for a hospital waiting room, but she can’t bring herself to care.  She needs to be with him, now and always.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Instead of coming home after the meeting with Caroline, Stephanie just drives around Gotham.  She texts Jason to let him know that she’s okay and will be home in a bit, and drives.  She tries to keep her mind clear, but it just replays the meeting with Caroline over and over again.

It was so awkward.

She didn’t think Caroline would end up being her best friend -- Cass has that role, anyways -- but she had expected something...more than what had transpired.  They barely talked, as it is.  She left the cafe with more questions than answers -- which, by the way, hadn’t registered at the time, but was Caroline really the type of person who frequented places like The Greenhouse Cafe?  She’d have to comb their financial records to find out.  The place is known for catering to Gotham’s upper class and while the food is decent, its reputation is based mainly on its price tags than its quality.  Had Caroline chosen the place in particular? Or was it just a random choice?

She pulls into the parking garage underneath their building and takes the elevator up to the penthouse.  She pulls out her keys and opens the front door to dodge a kiddie soccer ball.

“Pumpkin, what have I told you about playing soccer in the house?”

“Not to.”  Annabelle doesn’t look sheepish at all, as she runs to retrieve the ball that has now been shot into the hallway.  The door to the rooftop garden is feet from their front door.

“Haven’t you had enough soccer today?”  Stephanie sets her purse on the table in the entryway and continues into the main living space.  “And where’s Daddy?”

“Daddy is talking to Grandpa.”  That is...unusual.  Not that Jason and Bruce aren’t on good terms, because they are, but it’s weird that he’s talking to him in the middle of the day.  Texting, sure, but calling?  They see each other usually at least once a week, out of costume, and tomorrow is their Sunday at the manor day, so he would usually have waited until seeing him in person.

She steps further into the apartment, past the living room area and dining area to the point where the rooms with doors start.  It’s also odd that Jason is talking to Bruce behind closed -- or mostly closed doors.  She hears the faint tone of his voice as she gets deeper into the apartment.

“-not cool, Bruce.  This is not something we needed dropped on our heads at this point.”

...All right, so it’s an argument of some sort.  And there’s really only one thing that they could be arguing about right now.

“I’m home!”  Stephanie announces loudly, making sure Jason can hear her even though he’s in their library.  It’s certainly not as extensive as the manor’s library, but it’s a big room filled with shelves of books Jason has collected.  “Annie, why don’t you get changed out of that soccer uniform.  Have you had lunch yet?”

“Daddy made tacos.”  Annabelle stands behind her, clutching her ball.  “I like this uniform.”

“I know you do, sweetie, but Mommy has to wash it so you can wear it next week.”  She turns around and shoos Annabelle out of the hallway into her own room.  “Were the tacos yummy?”

“I love tacos!”  Annabelle shouts and closes the door behind her, either disappearing to change or to play with her toys.  Stephanie doesn’t know which and she doesn’t particularly care either -- there’s not really anything in Annabelle’s room that could ruin the soccer uniform.

“Hey, Steph.”  Jason peeks out of the library, phone still in hand.  “How was the meeting?”

“How was the call with Bruce?”  She raises her brow.

Jason looks at her somewhat sheepishly.  “Illuminating.  You?”

“Illuminating.”  She throws his word right back at him.

“Okay,” he says, running a hand through his hair.  “I suppose if I dish, you’ll dish?”

“Right-o.”

They retire to their bedroom and shut the door enough that just a sliver of light peeks through, so Annabelle knows they can be disturbed if she needs them, but not enough for her to be able to hear everything they’re saying.  Annabelle will have to be told eventually, Stephanie knows, but right now, when everything is so up in the air, it’s best to keep her in the dark.

She sits on the edge of their bed, while he stands near their closet.  “So, after you left,” he begins, “I decided to look at the information Babs sent on the Mathers family.  And I noticed that someone -- an 'anonymous” donor,'” he makes the quotation marks with his fingers, “was paying for Madeleine’s treatment.  And,” he looked straight at her, “because Babs is Babs, I know she would have honed in on that immediately and followed it up.  Because really, a secret donor paying for your daughter’s treatment?  That’s too good to be true.  And it’s not like the Matherses are hurting for money, so it wouldn’t be a charity program or something either.

“I also wondered,”  he changes the subject somewhat, “why you were at Wayne Enterprises yesterday, since you’re there less than I am, and that’s saying something.  And Tim called,” he added on, “while I was looking through the financials and wanted to know if everything was okay since you had to meet with Bruce so suddenly.”

“So you know, then.”  She scoots back more on the bed.  “You know that Bruce has secretly been paying for Madeleine’s -- Maddie’s -- treatment this entire time.”

“Exactly.”  Jason looks at her concernedly.  “So I called him up and straight out asked him about it.”

“And he admitted it.”

“Yep.”  Jason shrugs.  “No ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hidden it from you,’ or anything.  Just straight up ‘I’ve known from the beginning and said nothing.’”

Stephanie closes her eyes.  “He told me yesterday that he wouldn’t have told me if she had died from the initial case.”  She opens her eyes again.  “It’s all so...”

“So messed up?”  Jason comes over and perches on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah.”  She sighs.  “That’s one word for it.” A pause.  “The PG version.”

He laughs, and it makes her heart flutter a bit.  She really does love him.  “So yeah,” he continues, looking at her, “that’s what we talked about.  Now how was the meeting with Caroline?  And try to use full sentences,” he teases.

“It was...awkward,” she admits.  “Really awkward.  Illuminating too, in this odd way.  Like I think I got more information about Caroline than I did about Maddie.”
“Oh?”  He raises his brow.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, first of all, The Greenhouse Cafe.  I mean,” she pauses, pulling a stray thread from their bedspread, “think about it.  Why that place?  The food is all right, but the place isn’t known for its food but for its -”

“Snobbery,” he finishes for her.  “But they’re new to Gotham, so maybe she just chose a place nearby?  I looked at their Gotham address and it’s only a few blocks from there.”

“Possibly,”  Stephanie allows, “and that is probably some of it.  But also the way she looked sitting there, as if she were holding court.  And the way she dressed -- I thought I was dressed decently for a Saturday lunch, but she looked like she had just stepped out of the office.  On a Saturday.  And,” she continues, “even if she did choose the place for its proximity, the fact that they live there says something.  I mean, come on, that’s executives all there.  Richest area in Gotham City proper.”

“True,” he admits.  “Bunch of snobs living there, and the prices are outrageous.  Not really a normal place for people new to town -- even upper middle class people -- to move to. Though,” he adds, “Bruce is the one paying for it -- they submitted the bills to the anonymous donor who approved it.”

Stephanie rolls her eyes.  “So they chose the ritziest neighborhood in Gotham -- a place that only comprises about a five block radius -- to live in, and Caroline either knowingly or unknowingly chooses a snobby cafe to have lunch in, and then acts like she’s holding court there.  She offers to pay for the meal --”

“I mean, she did invite you.”  Jason pats her leg.  “I’m not surprised about that.”

“Yeah, but it was more about the way she did it?  Like,” she frowns, remembering, “I started to say that I didn’t mind picking up my own tab and she insisted, like...I don’t know, an act of charity.”  She draws up her knees as best she can.  “You know what I mean.”

Jason is silent for a moment.  “Yeah,” he finally answers. “I know what you mean.”

“And thinking back about it -- we really didn’t say that much at all.  Like we barely talked about Maddie -- that’s what she calls her -- and the leukemia.  She seemed more...surprised, I guess, about me being pregnant and having a fiance and a daughter.”

“I managed to look up leukemia too,” he says, “and you can’t donate bone marrow when pregnant, Google tells me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.  And I can’t donate blood, which is another thing she was interested in.”

“Blood?”  He asks.

“Yeah, Maddie is in a clinical trial and they need blood from a relative to advance to the next stage of treatment.”  Stephanie moves a lock of hair out of her face.  “So I understand Caroline being disappointed that I can’t be a help -- even if I turn out to be a match -- right now.  That’s not what was off.  It was just her general demeanor and I could tell she was disapproving when she found out we’re not married.”

“That is...old-fashioned of her.”  Jason scoots closer to her and puts his arms around her.

“It is.  Like it’s no business of hers that we’re not married -- yet,” she clarifies, leaning against his chest.  “So what if I’m pregnant and we have a five year-old.  We just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“I mean,” Jason picks his words carefully, “if you wanted, I’d marry you tomorrow.”

“But that’s not what I want,” she says.  “I want... I don’t know.  I want to get married when it’s right for us, not because Caroline Mathers who I barely know disapproves of me.  Of us,” she adds on.  “And I know you’ll marry me the moment I’m ready.  I’ve known that for the last four and a half years, ever since we got engaged.  I just...” She sighs.  “I guess I’ve been waiting for that perfect moment.”

“And I’ll wait with you,” he says into her hair. “Just give me the word and I’ll be there.”

“I will,” she says. “Trust me, Jay, you’ll be the first to know.  I just, right now with my dissertation and your program and Annabelle and Ryan -- I do not want to get married right now; I’m as big as a modest-sized house.”

“Just a modest-sized house?” He teases.

She reaches around him and grabs a pillow and hits him with it.  Laughing, she says, “Well I still have some weeks to go.”

“I guess you do,” he says, tossing the pillow out of range.  He buries his face into her neck.  “I, for one, can’t wait.”

“Yeah, neither can I. After all, I am the one carrying this mammoth of a baby inside of me.”  She pokes his side where she knows he is slightly ticklish, and he squawks.

“So,” he comes back to himself.  “Caroline disapproves.”

“Caroline disapproves, yeah.”  She leans back against him again.  “At least that’s the vibe I got from her and I may be wrong but...”

“Gotta trust the Batsense.”  He reaches for her hands.  “So besides being disapproving, did you get anything else out of the meeting?”

“Well,” she sighs, “we didn’t actually exchange contact info, so that was not the best.  And she’s been married for nineteen years, right out of law school.  Not a big fan of Gotham at all, from what I picked up, which also perhaps explains why they chose the richest and theoretically safest area to live in.  She really seemed to emphasize that they were Maddie’s parents, which I understand, I guess.  And,” she pauses, “she asked about Dean.”

“Dean...the father?”  Jason, not being in her life at the time, is aware of the fact that Dean exists, but knows little more than that.  Dean just isn’t important in her life -- and never was, except for being the biological father of Maddie.  “I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah, it does.  And I told her his name and that I’d look into him.”  She pulls their joined hands to her front and rests them above her stomach.  “So I should do that -- or have Babs look into him, really.”

“Anything else you got from Caroline?”  He kisses the top of her head.

“I just told her I’d like to see Maddie and while she didn’t seem thrilled, she did say that Maddie wanted to see me, so that’s good.”

“That’s good!”  He shifts so he can kiss her properly.

“Yeah.” She hmms into his lips.  “I-”

“MOMMY! DADDY!”

“Annabelle calls,” he chuckles.  “I don’t want to say I’m glad it went well, but I’m glad it served its purpose. Maybe you can email her for her phone number and give her yours.”  They extract themselves from each other.

“Yeah, I should do that now.”  She follows him out of the room.

***

Jason once again takes control of entertaining Annabelle that evening.  Stephanie uses the time to contact Barbara to get started on finding Dean.  And she finds Caroline has beaten her to sending contact information: she finds an email dated not too long ago that gives her phone number as well as her husband’s, and Stephanie texts her her number and Jason’s, just in case of an emergency.

Stephanie then settles into the couch with a tablet of all the information Babs sent to her yesterday and slowly goes through it: their financials, where they went to college (University of Arizona and Cornell for undergrad, NYU for law school) including their transcripts, Caroline’s Facebook profile, Jeffrey’s LinkedIn profile, health insurance forms, their tax records, and more.  They moved to Gotham after a few years in New York, just in time for the Quake and No Man’s Land, which they fled the city from, and came back a few months before Maddie’s birth.  For a moment, Stephanie can’t blame Caroline for not liking Gotham: in a short time frame, they witnessed some of Gotham’s worst moments.  There’s also mention of a Scarecrow attack at a law firm that Caroline was supposed to start at.

They bought their house in Boston just over nine years ago.  They seemed to be doing very well as a family, Caroline staying at home Maddie’s entire life.  Jeffrey is a successful lawyer.  Caroline was too, until they moved to Gotham and she quit.  Perhaps in preparation of being a mother? Or for some other reason?  In any case, Stephanie can’t find anything against them as people or a family.

Simply put, though Caroline might be a bit snobbish for Stephanie’s taste, Maddie seems to have been raised in a great family.  She’s glad to know that her daughter has had a good life, but there’s a part of her that is extremely jealous, even if she knows she made the right decision.

And now, with the leukemia, she may get to be a part of her daughter’s life -- no matter how small.

A very small blessing in a terrible disguise.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully.  She continues reading over the information on the Matherses, while Annabelle colors and Jason does his own school work.  Eventually it’s time to send Annabelle to bed and Jason to go on patrol.

“Are you sure you don’t want me staying home?”  He asks her one last time, before he puts on his domino mask.  He usually waits until he gets to a safehouse to finish getting ready, not wanting their neighbors to see him exiting their building in full costume.

“No, I’ll be fine.  Annie’s asleep and the city needs you.”  She smiles and bites back a yawn.  “I’ll probably be on comms some.”

“You probably need to sleep,” he counters.

“I probably do,” she admits. “But I’ll still listen in for a bit.”  She waves her Batphone.  “I can’t be out there with you for a while, so let me listen in.”

“All right.”  He leans down one final time to kiss her and bid good night, before he takes off.
The moment she had the pregnancy confirmed, she stopped going out.  Before then, she and Jason had often traded off days patrolling, or teamed up when someone else in the know was watching Annabelle, like Alfred.  Having a kid while being a vigilante isn’t exactly easy, especially when they are too young to be trusted with the secret.  There’s no going out before Annabelle is in bed, and they’re lucky that she sleeps through the night and isn’t prone to needing to get up in the middle of the night to notice one of them missing.

As much as she misses the wind through her hair and the high of jumping off a rooftop, Stephanie has still been training.  She’s limited in what she can do, but she’s managed to stay in shape and do certain routines and exercises.  She even takes a Mommy and Me self-defense course with Annabelle so that Annabelle learns the basics of self-defense.  It’s gotten to be a very Gotham thing to do nowadays, take self-defense courses.

Does Maddie take any form of self-defense?  Does she do any other type of activities?  Annabelle does so many, partly because she’s an active five year-old who needs things to keep her busy and also partly because neither Stephanie nor Jason really had the opportunity to do extracurriculars when they were little, and it’s something they want their children to experience.

Plus, they’re good training for when she’s older, a voice in her head chimes in.  It’s simply not developmentally appropriate to tell a child the age of Annabelle -- and Ben -- a secret so important that it could ruin lives if they ever messed up and someone believed them.  She’s a child psychologist in training, she knows this.  But eventually the secret will come out: either they will tell Annabelle or she might put together the pieces herself.  Hopefully, it’s the former.  And, there’s not much doubt in Steph’s mind that she will want to take after her parents and the rest of the family.

Annabelle is kind and caring and already shows a protective side.

Stephanie looks down at her Batphone.  The phone converts comm chatter to text, and while it isn’t one hundred percent accurate (how it got Dino out of Damian once, Babs never quite figured out but poor Damian was stuck being called Dino by the family for a week), but it’s close enough to get what’s going on.  It’s a quiet night tonight, though, and Stephanie soon falls asleep to a conversation between Tim, Dick and Jason on which type of cereal happened to be the best, while Jason stops a mugging, Tim works on something in the Cave and Dick is on a stakeout.

***

Sundays have a routine: brunch, then a trip to the manor for Annabelle’s riding lesson (which at this stage is really her learning how to care for the pony and then riding it around the paddock on the lunge line), and then some kind of family event with whatever side of the family they’re hanging out with.  Sometimes it’s a matinee (of the movie or theater or ballet variety), sometimes it’s a museum visit, sometimes it’s board games at Crystal’s apartment or Wayne manor.  And sometimes they don’t have specific plans, they just take things as they come, like today.

Stephanie would rather have structure today.

So far, she’s managed to keep her mind on Annabelle, who is her normal chatty self.  She attempts to do cartwheels in the living room and bangs into the coffee table, which causes tears that turn into laughter after getting tickled by Jason.  There’s no message from Caroline, so she sips her tea and watches father and daughter do minor tricks, after moving furniture out of the way.

It’d be a nice morning, if Stephanie didn’t have Maddie and Caroline looming in her head.

What is Maddie doing today?  Probably not basic tumbling.  What is there to do in the hospital? What hospital is Maddie even at?  The Children’s Hospital, probably, it’s where she’d expect a child from out of state to go.  And thanks to the Wayne Foundation, she knows that the Children’s Hospital offers a lot of activities and events for the children.  Is Maddie even well enough to participate, though?

She hates not knowing.

“Oh, man, we better get going.”   Jason stands up from his handstand.  Annabelle is still trying to kick her legs up but she can’t manage to get them straight before she falls over.  “Can’t be late to riding.”

“Yay, riding!”

The family finishes getting ready and in the car within the next half an hour.  The drive to the manor involves a Disney’s Greatest playlist that Annabelle gleefully sings with.  When they pull up to the stables, set away from the manor proper, Dick’s car is already there.  Of course, once Bruce gave Annabelle a pony, Ben wanted one, and unlike Stephanie and Jason, Dick actually thought it was a good idea.  Of course, growing up in the circus, Dick had had access to horses and ponies and could trick ride decently, even if he was out of practice.

Dick has already saddled up on a horse and rides it around the paddock, and Sarah, the stablehand, helps Ben up onto his pony.  Annabelle rushes over for her turn, and Steph and Jason take their places on the outside of the fence.  Helena is absent, which is unusual.  Even when she and Dick are in the off stage of their on-and-off relationship, she usually shows up to Ben’s things, when Dick has him.

Normally, Steph would ask where she is.  Today, however, she doesn’t.  It just means less people to have to talk to.  Jason seems to realize it, and lets her be silent while he talks to Annabelle.

“Where’s Helena?” Jason speaks up, after a bit.  Dick has stopped off at the side to goad Jason into riding, something he always tries to do and something he’s never had success in.  All the Wayne kids learned riding at some point, but Dick and Damian are the ones who actually do it anymore.

“Children’s hospital, volunteering.”  That gets Stephanie’s attention.  She forgot that every month or so, Helena volunteered as a tutor there for the children.  Dick makes the horse rear.

“I forgot about that.  But I thought it was a Saturday thing?” Stephanie shies away from the horse.  She doesn’t dislike horses, she just has a healthy respect for them and doesn’t appreciate it when they do things like that, even if it’s because their riders asked them to.
 
“Yeah, but Ben has soccer now on Saturdays, so she decided to switch with Eric, who has a more flexible schedule.”  Dick makes the horse buck in front of them.

“I want to learn how to do that!”  Both Ben and Annabelle exclaim.

“Can you cool it with the antics?”  Jason says, his arm around Stephanie’s shoulders.  “And no, sweetie, you can’t learn that yet!”  He calls to Annabelle.  “See?” He glares at Dick.

Dick sticks his tongue out at him and stands on the horse instead.  “Better?”

“No.” Both she and Jason say in unison.  Poor Sarah has to fight the kids to not try standing on the back of their ponies.

Dick does a flip off of the horse and lands in a perfect stance.  “I don’t know what you have against horses.”

This is also a conversation that happens between the brothers whenever they’re together at the stables which is once a week.  Stephanie just shakes her head and leaves them to argue it out, knowing already the outcome: Jason still won’t get on a horse, and Dick won’t change his own mind about trying to get Jason to ride.

Instead, she walks to the benches by the stable and sits down, taking the occasional shot of Annabelle with her phone.

Would Maddie like riding?  Has she ever ridden before?  Did she ever ask for a pony as a young child?  Of course, she didn’t get one; if she had, or Stephanie would have seen it in the family’s financials.  What about other pets?  It doesn’t seem like the Mathers family had any pets, but maybe Stephanie had just missed it.  Maybe Maddie doesn’t want a pet, though isn’t a pet something most kids want?  Stephanie definitely wanted a pet when she was little, and Annabelle wants one now.

Thinking of Maddie, does this mean Helena might meet her today?  The hospital is big and she doesn’t know what wards Helena visits, or if Maddie even has homework she needs to be tutored in.  But still, the possibility of someone she knows meeting Maddie before she does makes her jealous...and want to pry any information she can out of Helena.

“Hey.”  She looks up and smiles at Jason, who moves to sit beside her.  “Thinking about Maddie?”

“Who’s Maddie?”  Dick pipes up.

She shoots Jason a baleful look, and he winces.  “Sorry,” he mouths at her.

“No one,” she says aloud.

“But you’re thinking about her?”  Dick doesn’t take the hint. “You’re quieter than usual this week.  And you took off Patrol on Friday.”  He nudges Jason’s foot.  “So something is clearly up.”

“Really, Dick, I don’t want to talk about it.”  She’d tell Cass, and she’ll have to tell Tim if he shows up for dinner, which he will probably show up for.  Sunday dinners are supposed to be family dinners, after all.  Only Damian is excused at the moment because he’s away at school.  And Bruce knows, of course.  But telling Dick -- who probably knows she had a baby at sixteen and gave it up for adoption but wasn’t involved with her really at all at the time -- just seems too...out there, at the moment.

Dick seems to take the hint.  “All right, I’ll leave you two be.  But I am here, if you need me.”

“Thanks, Dick.”  She gives him half a smile.  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

Ben and Annabelle want to swim, which means lots of splashing and attempts to outdo each other with tricks.  Dick teaches both of them gymnastics once a week, and adds some aquatic tricks to their repertoire today, as they play around.  Jason and Dick and even Bruce join in, while Stephanie swims leisurely laps.  Bruce looks at her once, but she looks away, not wanting to get into anything with him.  They spend several hours in the pool until Alfred calls them for dinner.

Tim, Cassie and Kon are already seated, waiting for the rest of them to trail in.  Officially, Tim and Cassie are married, but close friends and family know that they’re actually a triad instead of just a couple.  Steph takes a seat next to Cassie, as Tim and Kon are seated next to each other tonight, seated across from Kon, who sends her a grin.

“How are you doing?”  He asks, taking a sip of his wine.

“Fine, you?”  She bats back, accepting a glass of sparkling cider from Alfred.

Kon just grins.  She likes Kon a lot.  Part of that is because Tim likes Kon, she’s predisposed to like him as well.  But Kon is also a lot of fun in his own way, as he shows when he tells her an amusing story about work.

Dinner passes quickly, and she thinks no one really notices her silence, until they’re getting ready to go home after desert, and Tim stops by her.

“Hey.”  She gives him a smile.

“Hey.”  He smiles back.  “So, I wanted to ask if you got everything was okay.”  He moves his eyes towards Bruce, who is holding a conversation with Ben about yesterday’s soccer game and the goal Ben scored.  “I noticed you and Bruce weren’t all that chummy today.”

“Bruce and I have never been particularly ‘chummy’,” she replies.  Jason is getting Annabelle’s jacket on, Cassie and Kon are talking with Alfred, and Helena, who appeared halfway through dinner with apologies, and Dick are talking off to the side.

“I know, I know, but I mean...” He pauses, switches gears.  “You’re just very quiet today.”

So he did notice.  Of course, he did.  She knows she should tell him, but it’s not easy to get the words out.  “Yeah, well...” She glances around again, making sure everyone else is still caught up in other things and not paying attention to them.  “Come on,” she says, motioning with a shoulder to the corner.  He follows after her silently.

“The little girl I gave up for adoption,” she starts out with.  There’s no asking if he remembers or not -- he will.  He was the one who attended the birthing classes with her, who snuck in during labor.  He has to remember.

“Of course.”  He keeps his voice down. “What happened?”

“She has cancer -- leukemia, to be precise.  I met with her adoptive mother yesterday.”  She runs a hand through her hair, sighing.  “And they’re at the Children’s Hospital taking part in a clinical trial.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”  He draws her a bit awkwardly into a hug, her belly in the way.  “How did you find out?”  A beat.  “And what does Bruce have to do with it?”  Ever the detective, Timmy.

She lets herself relax in his arms.  “Caroline -- her adoptive mother -- emailed me on Friday, and asked to meet.  And I put Babs on investigating them, making sure it was legit, and we found out that Bruce has been paying her medical expenses and stuff anonymously since she was diagnosed.”

“And he didn’t tell you.”

“Nope.” She pops the “p”.  “He didn’t tell me.”

“I’m really sorry, Steph.”  Tim hugs her tightly as her stomach allows once more before releasing her.  She steps away.  “It’s awful to hear.”

“Yeah, well, technically she isn’t mine,” she tries to brush off his words, but knows she doesn’t succeed when she sees his face.  “I just...”  She purses her eyes shut. Damn, tears are prickling at the back of her eyes.

“Are you going to get to see her?”

She shrugs, hugs her arms around herself.  “I asked Caroline, who said they’ll see.  Maddie -- Madeleine is her name -- is interested in meeting me, so hopefully.” She smiles wistfully.  “I’d love to see her.”

“She’d be twelve now,” he hums.

“Yeah.”  She breathes out.  “I can hardly believe it.”

“Ahem.”  Jason clears his throat, a respectable distance away from the two of them, Annabelle’s hand in his.  “Do you want to stay longer, or should we get going?”

“Yeah, we should probably go,” she sighs.  The spell has broken, and now it’s time to go.  All of a sudden, she’s tired.

They bid goodbye to everyone, and go out to the car.  Stephanie pulls out her cell phone, and gasps.  Caroline has written.

Letting Jason strap Annabelle in, she swipes to read the message: "You can see Maddie on Tuesday.  Visiting hours are from one to four.  Text with what time you’ll come, and I’ll meet you at the reception desk.”