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Duke doesn’t like the dark. He isn’t scared of it, exactly. Hasn’t been since he was four. But he still doesn’t like it.
He likes the light a bit too much, though. Duke never falls asleep with the lights on. So, Elaine flicks the lights off.
“One more story,” Duke pleads. He’s six, but he’s already so smart and kind. If Elaine told him that she has to wake up in seven hours for a home visit, he would tell her to sleep, because she must be tired. “Or a song. Please?”
“Alright,” Elaine agrees. She sits back down on the chair by Duke’s small bed. He’ll need a larger one soon. Doug has been saying it for months, but Elaine doesn’t want to believe it. Her baby bird is growing up. “What song do you want?”
It’s not safe for him to grow up. Eventually, Gnomon will seek him out, putting them all—especially Duke—in danger. But Elaine knows that all children have to grow up, including Duke. She’ll just have to do her best to protect him.
Duke bounces a bit in bed. “Sunshine!”
Elaine smiles, pulling his quilt over him, smoothing down the edges. Her mother-in-law made it for Duke in his favorite colors. “You’re trying to sleep, remember?”
Duke pouts. “Sorry, Mama.” He doesn’t sound very sorry, but if Elaine had his energy, she wouldn’t want to sleep either. Duke makes a show of closing his eyes. Elaine runs her fingers through his hair, trying to lull her son to sleep.
And then, voice soft and warm but just the tiniest bit hoarse, she starts to sing. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”
The world is dark, light drained away by the shadows filling Elaine’s veins. She looks out through a veil, like a woman in mourning. But she doesn’t grieve. She doesn’t feel much of anything.
Everything is pointless. Elaine is a black hole, taking in everything good and crushing it. No light can escape from her. Her mouth moves on its own, saying horrible things. She laughs.
It doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t feel like much of anything at all.
But in her dreams…in her dreams, Elaine is holding a small sphere of light. She clutches it close to her chest, letting it warm her cold heart. Bit by bit, it grows, until her arms are wrapped around the sphere. Her eyes are too heavy to open, but she can see the brightness even through her eyelids, bringing rare moments of clarity.
I’m dreaming, Elaine thinks. I’m dreaming, and I don’t want to wake up. Please don’t make me wake up.
But then her arms tighten involuntarily around the light, crushing it until it collapsed in on itself.
And Elaine laughs, high and shrill.
When she wakes, the world is always dark.
There’s a hand in hers, spreading a curious warmth up to her heart. She’s been so cold, but the ice is slowly melting away. Close by, something beeps. Voices around her speak with indistinct words. But one of them—
One of them, Elaine recognizes. She would recognize her son’s voice anywhere.
It takes everything in her to force her eyes open, but she does it. And when she sees Duke’s face, it’s worth it.
She whispers his name and he’s there in a moment, clutching her hand like a lifeline. He looks different, older. Not just by the fact that he’s sprouted up like a beanstalk and grown more muscle than ever. He carries himself differently, shoulders back and stance strong, like an action hero from a movie. With the confidence comes a tension in his brow and a more serious, jaded look in his eyes. When Elaine reaches out to cover Duke’s hands with her other hand in reassurance, she feels his scarred knuckles. Her baby bird has been fighting.
But when he smiles, it’s wide and bright and clear.
There’s a TV in Elaine’s hospital room. She appreciates it. Things move quickly in Gotham, and it’s good to be apprised of the city’s latest disasters and what Rogues are out. And Duke eventually has to leave to go to school, leaving Elaine alone with the nurses, doctors, and television.
Doug hasn’t woken up yet. The doctors tell Elaine that she responded to the medication unusually well. Doug still has a ways to go, but he’s on track to recover. Most people fell into a coma within an hour of receiving the cure, and when the limited recovered patients so far woke up, they didn’t recall their brief span of lucidity. Elaine nods along. It makes sense that she shook off the darkness quickly, given the light within her.
Elaine is mid-call with Jay, getting updated on the last few months of her son’s life, when she sees footage of Condiment King rampaging through Gotham on the television.
That’s nothing new. Elaine can see enough of the city in the background to tell that the Rogue is nowhere near the hospital. Really, this is just a typical day in Gotham, nothing that would normally distract her from listening to Jay’s concerns about his cousin. But there’s a vigilante with a bat across his chest fighting Condiment King. And it’s not Batman.
“I’ll call you back,” Elaine says, gaze fixed on the screen.
The vigilante moves with confidence as he fights Condiment King’s minions. He has the type of certainty that can only be gained through practice, but he’s not reckless. He just knows what he’s doing.
But Elaine’s not seeing him. Not really. She’s seeing Duke at age ten, showing her a dragon kick. The vigilante’s kick is much smoother, precise and strong. But his smile? That’s the same. That’s exactly the same.
The vigilante spins. In her mind’s eye, Elaine sees Duke spinning around in circles, arms spread wide, until he got too dizzy to stand and collapsed on the carpeted floor with a giggle.
He almost looks like Duke, the vigilante. In a year or two, with some experiences under his belt. That could be Duke. That could be Elaine’s son.
Elaine has been Jokerized for a year.
One of the goons gets in a lucky hit with his crowbar, dazing the vigilante. Another gun raises his gun, lining up the shot. For a moment, Elaine thinks that he’ll hit. But then, there’s a flash of light, blinding the goon.
Elaine’s heart stops.
She’d wanted Duke to be safe. Why isn’t her son safe?
By the time Duke returns to her hospital room, Elaine has had time to come to terms with what she has learned. It’s not enough time, but it is time. At the very least, she’s dispelled the faint feeling of anger and betrayal. Or…redirect it. After all, Signal doesn’t work alone. There’s always Batman to consider.
Elaine reaches out and takes Duke’s hands, running her fingers over his scarred knuckles. She remembers when his hands were small. He had promised her that he’d defeat the Riddler. And Elaine had squeezed his hands and told him that this wasn’t his job, that he didn’t have to save the city. She’d been afraid of this path that her son was going down.
But she hadn’t been able to change his mind then, and she won’t be able to now.
And that’s how Elaine knows it’s Duke. Because really, he’s far from the only metahuman in Gotham. Besides, by all accounts, Batman has access to advanced technology. A flash of blinding light could be achieved through that, rather than powers.
But Duke has been walking down this path for a long time. Before he was a Genius Grant finalist at twelve. Before he showed her his dragon kick. Even before he told her that he would take back the city from the Riddler.
Elaine had always suspected that Duke would have powers like hers, perhaps even stronger. And powers and Duke’s spirit would always have been a dangerous combination.
“I’m proud of you,” Elaine says, trying not to clutch her son’s hands too tightly.
Duke’s gaze darts to the TV, where reporters are talking about the cleanup. No casualties. One of the reporters is making jokes about emergency services “playing ketchup.”
“I was going to tell you, Ma,” Duke says. “I promise.
“I know.”
Duke leans over her hospital bed and wraps his arms around her. Elaine returns the hug and tries not to imagine her son slipping away.
“I’m proud of you,” Elaine repeats. “So proud.”
“Thank you for taking care of my son,” Elaine says when Duke introduces his girlfriend. She was one of the kids who fought with him, Duke explained, after Joker’s attack. Elaine could tell that Duke had left out a lot of details and downplayed the dangers, but from what Duke said, Elaine could tell that Isabella had Duke’s back.
Isabella rolls her eyes, but Elaine can see the way the gratitude sinks into the young woman, letting her stand a little taller. She’s not used to being thanked.
“Told you she’d like you,” Duke says, nudging Isabella.
The girl smiles ever-so-slightly.
“This is Cass,” Duke says. The girl, Cass, gives Elaine a small wave. “Short for Cassandra. She’s my sister.”
Cass smiles at Elaine. “Hi, Duke’s mom.”
Elaine almost laughs at that. It’s been a while since she’s been called “Duke’s mom.” Duke’s friends, during the rare times they were over at the apartment, usually called her “Mrs. Thomas” or avoided her. Mostly, though, they hung out at the parks or youth centers or basketball courts. To teenage boys, parents were embarrassing.
“Hello, Cass. You have a very pretty name.”
Cass moves like the Signal, like she knows perfectly what she’s doing, like she has complete control over her body. If Elaine hadn’t already put the pieces of the puzzle together, she would now.
“Duke doesn’t like subways,” Cass tells Elaine seriously.
“Cass—”
“Important,” Cass says Duke. “You wouldn’t tell.” Duke huffs, but doesn’t disagree. “Sunflowers too. No sunflowers.”
Elaine nods. Duke has never had a problem with subways or sunflowers before.
There are other dangers besides dying, in her son’s new life.
Elaine doesn’t ask to meet Mr. Wayne until she’s able to stand on her own two feet and look him in the eyes.
She sends Duke out of the hospital room. Duke doesn’t like that, but he listens.
Elaine takes a moment to just consider the man in front of her. He’s dropped the act, she notices. He knows that trying to play the buffoon with her will be pointless.
If it were any boy other than Duke, Elaine would ask Mr. Wayne if he dragged Signal into this life. Very few people could afford to say no to Bruce Wayne, and even fewer to Batman. But Elaine knows better than that. Duke is a hero at heart. And no one can drag him anywhere he doesn’t want to be.
That doesn’t mean that Batman is some sort of saint. Elaine is withholding judgement, on that front. But she won’t do Duke the disservice of doubting his agency in becoming who he is now.
“I met your daughter last week,” Elaine says. “She’s a good kid. Duke calls her his sister.”
Bruce smiles at that. A real smile, not the fake ones he makes on TV. “I’m glad. She had a rough childhood, but she’s one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. Your son is another one of them.”
Elaine looks Bruce in the eyes. He’s not a killer. Elaine has met killers of all kinds. Young and old, angry and scared, regretful and remorseless. She can tell that he’s not a killer. But there’s still that same steel in his eyes that Elaine has seen in the eyes of the most dangerous people she’s met.
She wants to hold Duke in her arms and flee. He can be a hero—Elaine can live with that—but not with Mr. Wayne. Not with Batman. Not with this man who could destroy their lives with one word.
But you can’t hide a hero.
It’s the same story Elaine has dreaded since she ran from Gnomon. She’s sharing her child with a man who wields power like second nature. And now that Duke has grown up, he’s not safe.
“You’re a busy man,” Elaine says. “You do a lot for this city, during the day…and at night. When you’re out there, when you’re Batman, what is your priority? The villains you’re punching, or my son?”
There’s only one right answer. But Mr. Wayne answers with the certainty. “Duke is, as well as whoever else is fighting by my side. I’ve lost a lot to this city, Mrs. Thomas. I won’t lose another child. Not if…not if I can help it.”
Elaine straightens her spine. “You will protect my son with your life. If he dies on your watch, I will make sure you regret it. Do you understand me?” Elaine is still weak, still recovering from the Joker toxin treatment. But she stares Mr. Wayne down.
“I will,” Mr. Wayne promises.
And that, at least, Elaine believes.
Whether his life will be enough, though, she doesn’t know.
Doug is still in a coma, and the doctors are becoming less and less optimistic every day. Mr. Wayne is funneling money into his treatment. Elaine isn’t too proud to accept the help that might save her husband.
Elaine tries not to let Duke see, but she’s never believed in lying to children. Gnomon was a special case, and although Duke’s trust in her doesn’t seem to be damaged, Elaine isn’t willing to push it.
A day after Elaine admits the truth to Duke, Doug miraculously recovers. Duke wheels Elaine into Doug’s room.
Doug’s eyes open.
Sunlight streams in through the window.
Duke doesn’t go to school on the day Elaine is finally discharged. They spend the day together, eating ice cream in the park, drinking in the sunlight.
Doug and Elaine lost the lease on their apartment, but Mr. Wayne is providing them with a place to stay. Elaine has talked to Doug, and they’re planning to move out as soon as possible. It’s not safe, relying on Mr. Wayne’s goodwill. Elaine trusts that it will last, given that her son is fighting at his side, but she worries that Duke could feel pressure from the arrangement. It was bad enough that she and Doug were apparently staying at Wayne Manor for some time while Duke was in training. If Duke ever does decide to quit vigilantism or even to forge his own path, he should be able to make that decision without the fear of Mr. Wayne withdrawing support.
Duke tries to tell Elaine that Mr. Wayne isn’t like that. And Elaine listens. She does. It’s the reason she was willing to accept even the temporary lodging. But it’s not a long-term solution and, implication that Mr. Wayne might use Duke’s housing situation to apply pressure aside, Duke agrees.
The city always needs more social workers, especially now with the number of recently recovered Joker victims. Elaine already has a job secured that she’ll be able to begin once she regains her strength.
That night, Elaine tucks Duke into bed. He doesn’t even complain about not being a kid anymore. He just looks up at her, smiling with sad eyes.
“Can you sing?” Duke asks. It’s been a while since he’s asked that.
Elaine sits at his bedside, cards her hand through his hair, and begins to sing.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away
The other night, dear, while I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away