Post by C_Miller on Jun 22, 2014 11:36:13 GMT -5
Ultimate Batman #7
Gotham Wars Chapter IV
"The First Truth of Batman"
By C_Miller
***
"This is amazing…" Dick breathed as his eyes darted from end to end in the Bat-Cave. Bruce almost cracked a smile as he went running to look at all of the little pieces that his headquarters to see everything the cave had to offer; from super computer to Joker card.
Dick slowed down just long enough for Bruce to step along side him. "So what do you think?"
"You know Batman?"
Bruce smiled slowly. "Dick… I am Batman."
"You?"
Bruce nodded. "Is it so hard to believe?"
Dick furled his eyebrow at the older man and slowly nodded his head. His brain cycled through everything he knew of Bruce Wayne. Fancy cars, supermodel girlfriends, a butler who performs all basic functions for the man. That didn't stack up to being the current defender of Gotham.
"Dick, you told me that Batman inspired you. You want to be a hero because your parents were murdered in cold blood right in front of you… that happened to me." Bruce smiled and knelt down to get to eye level with his charge.
In his years of travel between his parents' murder and becoming Batman he hard learn to read a person's expression to immediately assess their intentions and to guard against any potential threats that a person could have when meeting someone dressed in a costume. He had seen many different looks in the eyes of others, but he had only see the expression on the young Dick Grayson's face once. It was the first time he looked in a mirror after his parents were murdered. It was a look of vengeance.
Dick stared back into Bruce's eyes. "I want to help. I want you to train me."
"Dick… it's more complicated than that…"
Dick rolled his eyes. "You do it! Didn't someone train you?"
Bruce stood up and stepped away. "Dick… I wish I had someone to tell me not to do this. I have devoted my entire life to chasing something that can't be found. Solace."
Suddenly a red light began to flash on the keyboard of the main computer at the center of the Bat-Cave. Bruce raised his eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder. It wasn't something entirely unexpected, but for some reason, he felt as if something was off. "Dick… let me grab that."
He strolled over and pressed the button. "Yes… Commissioner?" He asked in a perfect Batman voice, which caused Dick to smile wildly.
"Batman! I don't know how he got in here… It all happened so fast after the gang war. He… he's got Barbara!" Commissioner Gordon screamed into the phone.
Leaving the line on, Bruce rushed over to where his costume was and began tearing off his dress shirt and slacks in order to replace them with the costume. In a matter of moments, he was in full Batman garb. "Jim, are you there?"
"He's a bit indisposed… or about to be disposed of… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Cackled a voice into the computer that sent a chill right down Batman's spine. His mind raced as he heard a voice and laugh that could only belong to a monster that he hadn't encountered in some time, someone who he thought he would never encounter again: The Joker.
Batman slammed his fist on the computer. "Joker, if you've hurt them… I swear…"
"You swear what Bat-Brain!? We both know you won't do anything… that wouldn't be very funny! HAHAHA!"
Batman ran back over to the young boy. Bruce noticed that his hands were shaking and small beads sweat had started to form across his forehead. He reached out to comfort him, but he pulled back and looked away with shame. With a slight nod of the head, he spun around and took off towards the Batmobile, which he jumped into in one fluid motion. "DICK! STAY DOWN HERE!"
Dick looked up to respond, but before he could the tires screeched and the Batmobile was gone.
***
Batman grabbed his left hand as he jerked the wheel of his trademarked car and drifted around the corner. He kept both his hands tight on the wheel, clenching the wheel in his fists without losing concentration. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Gordon's house was at the opposite end of the city from Wayne Manor, but he wouldn't stop until he was at the home of one of his closest friends.
He pulled up to the curb and jumped out of his car almost before it was fully stopped. Charging towards the home, he was alarmed by the continuous deadened thud of metal, followed by a bone chilling scream of a young girl. "Barbara!"
Batman charged towards the closed door with all of his might and busted it wide open. Visible from the entry way, in the living room, The Joker was standing over a bloody and beaten Barbara Gordon, holding a gun in one hand and a crowbar held over his head in the other. "Good of you to join us, Batty!"
"WHERE'S JIM!?" Batman shouted.
The Joker turned to face Batman with his trademarked cheshire grin and his eyes floating in both directions, not remaining focused on one particular thing. "Oh, just hanging out in the back… quite literally, in fact."
Batman charged towards The Joker, knocking him down when they made contact and causing the gun to go flying across the room. The Dark Knight then pounded his fist as hard as he could into Joker's wide grin, knocking out at least one tooth.
"Wait… stop me if you've heard this one before." The Joker cackled as Batman punched him again. "Guns don't kill people… homicidal maniacs with crowbars kill people. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Batman pummeled The Joker again and again. "Get the joke, Bat-Brain? HAHAHA!"
The Dark Knight looked at the floor, next to Barbara's body was the gun that Joker was once holding. Before The Joker could tell what Batman had fixated on, Batman lunged towards the Colt Python .357 and once he had it in his grasp, he pointed it directly at the Clown Prince of Crime. "This ends tonight, Joker."
"Hoho. The game's afoot. Is this really the night you're going to break your one rule? You're about to get a whole lot more interesting. Hahaha! I can barely contain myself!" The Joker manically throw his arms around. "I DID IT! I BROKE THE BAT!"
Batman pulled back on the hammer and heard the satisfying click of the chamber spinning around. "Congratulations, Joker. Was it worth it?"
The Joker's face fell from a wicked grin to a look combining sadness and confusion. "Wait… this isn't funny anymore."
"It never was." Batman said as he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet hurdling towards his arch-nemesis. The bullet connected with his forehead, right between his large black eyes. Joker fell to the floor with a thud that shook the entire apartment. Batman felt an odd feeling of satisfaction which caused his stomach to churn and his mouth to salivate in the way one would use as a hint that vomiting was coming.
Batman instantly looked away from the Joker's corpse on the floor of Gordon's apartment. He looked at Barbara who was passed out across the room, barely recognizable through the gashes and bruises and the blood matting her hair to her open scalp. His stomach dropped fast, pushing the contents up through his throat and into his mouth. Keeling over, he emptied the bright red and yellow contents into a puddle on the floor and wiped his mouth with his leather glove.
He walked over to her and knelt at her side. He could tell that she was still breathing, but it was labored and he knew that she didn't have much time left. "Barbara… I'm sorry…"
She couldn't respond, he knew that, but he needed her to know that he was there. Years ago, he brought her father into a life of crime fighting and by extension, he brought her into it as well.
Bruce lightly picked up her hand and kissed it. As he let it go, his communicator began to buzz. He tapped the flashing button on his wrist and began to speak into it. "Yes… Alfred?"
"Sir, the news reports that the Gang War is making its way north. The Maronis seem to have found a new leader and have breached Old Gotham and the Zeiss Family is on the outskirts of Founder's Landing." Alfred spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, but Bruce detected a slight quiver in his voice.
Bruce furled his brow under his mask. "Are you and Dick alright, Alfred?"
"I think you better get back here, sir."
***
Batman pulled the Batmobile into the Bat-Cave and came to a screeching halt. Nothing seemed especially out of the ordinary to the natural detective, which allowed him to breathe a long sigh of relief. He stepped towards the freight elevator which led back to the main part of Wayne Manor, taking his cowl off and letting it fall to the floor before he stepped in. His face revealed bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks as he solemnly pressed the button with the up arrow.
"It was always going to end this way," he heard in the back of his head. However, it wasn't either of his voices; the Batman voice or the Bruce Wayne voice. It was just there.
As the elevator reached the top floor, something felt off. Bruce began to look around the room and again there was nothing out of the ordinary. "ALFRED!?"
Bruce shouted again. "ALFRED!? DICK!?"
There was no response. He began to run through the halls of Wayne Manor until he arrived at the entrance hall where he saw the door wide open and in front of it were two bodies. One of an older man and one of a young boy. "NO!"
He rushed to Alfred's side and saw that his neck had been rotated 270 degrees. There was no doubt that he was dead. He then looked over towards the young boy who was riddled with bullets.
Bruce moved towards the body and Dick Grayson and he scooped it up into his arms. He cradled the body of the young boy as tight as he could with tears openly streaming down his face. He was too close to shed a light on it, but anyone who saw him would comment on how it mirrored a night like this one a lifetime ago; the night that Bruce lost his parents. And now here he was, himself a parent or a foster parent, cradling the dead body of a child that he had sworn to protect. The duality was lost on him. How could it not be? Batman was shutting down.
"This isn't how it's supposed to happen… everything's wrong. It all went wrong. I was supposed to save everyone… why did they all die?" Bruce asked to no one in particular. The only people that he cared to answer were dead.
The Dark Knight began to rock back and forth, allowing the blood from Dick's wounds to cover his costume. He didn't care anymore. "I wanted to save you all… I needed to save you all… I…"
"I really think you might."
Bruce spun around, still holding the child to see a man in the Nightwing costume, the costume that was the bane of his existence a few months back. "YOU!"
"Me… I really am surprised it's me as well. Interesting choice by the way. Nightwing… heh. You're many things, Bruce, but you're not subtle." The man smiled, which didn't cause Bruce any extra malice, in fact it made him take a step back and allow his features to soften. Batman watched as Nightwing continued to pace around the room as if he couldn't stand still, which was far from the only oddity. His movements were sharp, his joints were rigid and they snapped as he moved around.
Batman watched him closely, which only made his steps more rigid and calculated. "What do you mean choice? Are you saying I wanted this to happen?"
Nightwing laughed with what seemed to be an air of confidence that unnerved Bruce. "Of course not. Quite the opposite. In fact, that's why all this happened. You didn't want it to happen."
"Who are you?"
"Donald Grayson, of course. For the life of me, I can't figure out that one… giving Dick a brother. Maybe to create a separation between you and him… Nightwing, I understand. Nightwing has always been trying to take him away from you." Nightwing explained.
Batman lunged towards the masked man, his fist colliding with his chin. "WHO ARE YOU!?"
"The Joker."
Batman's eyes grew wide under his mask. "What?"
"I'm the Joker. I'm Alfred Thaddeus Pennyworth. Richard Jonathan Grayson. Or maybe James Worthington Gordon, SR… nope… just kidding. I'm Barbara Jane Gordon… can't you tell?" Nightwing laughed as he rolled away from another one of Batman's blows.
"I'll kill you!" Batman shouted.
Nightwing smiled devilishly. "That's not very Batman of you… I should know. I am you."
Batman slammed his fist into Nightwing's face, knocking his mask off and sure enough, Bruce saw something that was straight out of a mirror; a mirror that could also gaze through the past. It was a young Bruce… he was Nightwing. "This… this isn't possible."
"Of course it is, Bruce. You were always going to be the death of him."
Batman took a step back from the doppelgänger. "NO! I didn't kill him!"
"You did, Bruce. You always will!"
Suddenly Bruce's vision of the room began to grow foggy and dark. He stumbled slightly, but caught himself against the credenza in the entry way of Wayne Manor. Feeling his, hair it was slightly moist.
"Master Bruce," he heard in the distance as if it were in another world.
"Master Bruce!" Bruce fell to his knees and the room began to spin further and further to black.
***
"MASTER BRUCE!"
Bruce Wayne screamed at the top of his lungs as two strong arms ripped him from the rusted metal tank that he was in. Water gushed everywhere, soaking the man's suit who was helping Bruce from the tank. The arms laid him down on the cold concrete and began to try and steady the shaking hulk of a man. "Master Bruce, Master Bruce!"
Bruce's mania began to slow down as Alfred cradled him like a child. Alfred felt as his breathing normalized and he began to stir towards total consciousness. "Alfred?"
"I'm here, sir. Are you alright?"
Bruce lifted his hand and rubbed his face. "I think so, Alfred. How long was I in there for?"
Alfred scratched his head. "About six months, I suppose… I kept a feeding tube in there… and Doctor Strange kept monitoring your vitals… he told me that what ever you were experiencing was so intense that if I brought you out earlier, your mind might have been lost."
"I appreciate what you did, Alfred… now, help me to the study… I have some calls to make, favors to cash in on." Bruce spoke matter of factly as he tried to sit up. His movements were labored and matched with light whimpers and groans from the hulk of flesh and bone. This was the weakest he had been in as long as he could remember and it was not a feeling he relished. He cursed himself lightly under his breath as Alfred helped him to his feet.
Alfred winced, as he pulled his charge up, trying not to buckled under all of the weight. "Master Bruce, you need some rest…"
"I had six months of rest," he retorted without thinking.
Alfred shook his head. "I hardly consider detoxing from Scarecrow's fear toxin to be resting. But, please if you feel rested, I'll allow you to walk to the study yourself."
The older man stepped away for a second and Bruce began to stumble. "Not funny, Alfred."
"I wasn't trying to be. Now, what on Earth do you plan on doing?" Alfred didn't even try to hide his disdain and condescension, which Bruce clearly picked up on.
Bruce sighed. He hated to admit that Alfred was right, but the proof was in every labored step, every short breath and every twinge of burning pain that accompanied every movement. And that was just the physical. With every blink there came an image of the bullet hole ridden Dick Grayson and the mangled bodies of Barbara Gordon and Alfred. Despite it not being real, the guilt he felt was the true burning reality. It was real to him.
"Alfred, when I was in there… I saw things. I saw the darkness that is caused by being alone. Darkness that is caused by pushing everyone away…" Bruce's voice was only a whisper. Not one of pain or anguish, but of intensity.
"When Batman was born, I had a choice. I could have bled out and died right there or I could ring the bell and call for help. We both know which one I chose… and now it's time to ring it again…"
**To Be Continued in Ultimate Batman: Gotham Knights**
Gotham Wars Chapter IV
"The First Truth of Batman"
By C_Miller
***
"This is amazing…" Dick breathed as his eyes darted from end to end in the Bat-Cave. Bruce almost cracked a smile as he went running to look at all of the little pieces that his headquarters to see everything the cave had to offer; from super computer to Joker card.
Dick slowed down just long enough for Bruce to step along side him. "So what do you think?"
"You know Batman?"
Bruce smiled slowly. "Dick… I am Batman."
"You?"
Bruce nodded. "Is it so hard to believe?"
Dick furled his eyebrow at the older man and slowly nodded his head. His brain cycled through everything he knew of Bruce Wayne. Fancy cars, supermodel girlfriends, a butler who performs all basic functions for the man. That didn't stack up to being the current defender of Gotham.
"Dick, you told me that Batman inspired you. You want to be a hero because your parents were murdered in cold blood right in front of you… that happened to me." Bruce smiled and knelt down to get to eye level with his charge.
In his years of travel between his parents' murder and becoming Batman he hard learn to read a person's expression to immediately assess their intentions and to guard against any potential threats that a person could have when meeting someone dressed in a costume. He had seen many different looks in the eyes of others, but he had only see the expression on the young Dick Grayson's face once. It was the first time he looked in a mirror after his parents were murdered. It was a look of vengeance.
Dick stared back into Bruce's eyes. "I want to help. I want you to train me."
"Dick… it's more complicated than that…"
Dick rolled his eyes. "You do it! Didn't someone train you?"
Bruce stood up and stepped away. "Dick… I wish I had someone to tell me not to do this. I have devoted my entire life to chasing something that can't be found. Solace."
Suddenly a red light began to flash on the keyboard of the main computer at the center of the Bat-Cave. Bruce raised his eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder. It wasn't something entirely unexpected, but for some reason, he felt as if something was off. "Dick… let me grab that."
He strolled over and pressed the button. "Yes… Commissioner?" He asked in a perfect Batman voice, which caused Dick to smile wildly.
"Batman! I don't know how he got in here… It all happened so fast after the gang war. He… he's got Barbara!" Commissioner Gordon screamed into the phone.
Leaving the line on, Bruce rushed over to where his costume was and began tearing off his dress shirt and slacks in order to replace them with the costume. In a matter of moments, he was in full Batman garb. "Jim, are you there?"
"He's a bit indisposed… or about to be disposed of… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Cackled a voice into the computer that sent a chill right down Batman's spine. His mind raced as he heard a voice and laugh that could only belong to a monster that he hadn't encountered in some time, someone who he thought he would never encounter again: The Joker.
Batman slammed his fist on the computer. "Joker, if you've hurt them… I swear…"
"You swear what Bat-Brain!? We both know you won't do anything… that wouldn't be very funny! HAHAHA!"
Batman ran back over to the young boy. Bruce noticed that his hands were shaking and small beads sweat had started to form across his forehead. He reached out to comfort him, but he pulled back and looked away with shame. With a slight nod of the head, he spun around and took off towards the Batmobile, which he jumped into in one fluid motion. "DICK! STAY DOWN HERE!"
Dick looked up to respond, but before he could the tires screeched and the Batmobile was gone.
***
Batman grabbed his left hand as he jerked the wheel of his trademarked car and drifted around the corner. He kept both his hands tight on the wheel, clenching the wheel in his fists without losing concentration. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Gordon's house was at the opposite end of the city from Wayne Manor, but he wouldn't stop until he was at the home of one of his closest friends.
He pulled up to the curb and jumped out of his car almost before it was fully stopped. Charging towards the home, he was alarmed by the continuous deadened thud of metal, followed by a bone chilling scream of a young girl. "Barbara!"
Batman charged towards the closed door with all of his might and busted it wide open. Visible from the entry way, in the living room, The Joker was standing over a bloody and beaten Barbara Gordon, holding a gun in one hand and a crowbar held over his head in the other. "Good of you to join us, Batty!"
"WHERE'S JIM!?" Batman shouted.
The Joker turned to face Batman with his trademarked cheshire grin and his eyes floating in both directions, not remaining focused on one particular thing. "Oh, just hanging out in the back… quite literally, in fact."
Batman charged towards The Joker, knocking him down when they made contact and causing the gun to go flying across the room. The Dark Knight then pounded his fist as hard as he could into Joker's wide grin, knocking out at least one tooth.
"Wait… stop me if you've heard this one before." The Joker cackled as Batman punched him again. "Guns don't kill people… homicidal maniacs with crowbars kill people. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Batman pummeled The Joker again and again. "Get the joke, Bat-Brain? HAHAHA!"
The Dark Knight looked at the floor, next to Barbara's body was the gun that Joker was once holding. Before The Joker could tell what Batman had fixated on, Batman lunged towards the Colt Python .357 and once he had it in his grasp, he pointed it directly at the Clown Prince of Crime. "This ends tonight, Joker."
"Hoho. The game's afoot. Is this really the night you're going to break your one rule? You're about to get a whole lot more interesting. Hahaha! I can barely contain myself!" The Joker manically throw his arms around. "I DID IT! I BROKE THE BAT!"
Batman pulled back on the hammer and heard the satisfying click of the chamber spinning around. "Congratulations, Joker. Was it worth it?"
The Joker's face fell from a wicked grin to a look combining sadness and confusion. "Wait… this isn't funny anymore."
"It never was." Batman said as he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet hurdling towards his arch-nemesis. The bullet connected with his forehead, right between his large black eyes. Joker fell to the floor with a thud that shook the entire apartment. Batman felt an odd feeling of satisfaction which caused his stomach to churn and his mouth to salivate in the way one would use as a hint that vomiting was coming.
Batman instantly looked away from the Joker's corpse on the floor of Gordon's apartment. He looked at Barbara who was passed out across the room, barely recognizable through the gashes and bruises and the blood matting her hair to her open scalp. His stomach dropped fast, pushing the contents up through his throat and into his mouth. Keeling over, he emptied the bright red and yellow contents into a puddle on the floor and wiped his mouth with his leather glove.
He walked over to her and knelt at her side. He could tell that she was still breathing, but it was labored and he knew that she didn't have much time left. "Barbara… I'm sorry…"
She couldn't respond, he knew that, but he needed her to know that he was there. Years ago, he brought her father into a life of crime fighting and by extension, he brought her into it as well.
Bruce lightly picked up her hand and kissed it. As he let it go, his communicator began to buzz. He tapped the flashing button on his wrist and began to speak into it. "Yes… Alfred?"
"Sir, the news reports that the Gang War is making its way north. The Maronis seem to have found a new leader and have breached Old Gotham and the Zeiss Family is on the outskirts of Founder's Landing." Alfred spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, but Bruce detected a slight quiver in his voice.
Bruce furled his brow under his mask. "Are you and Dick alright, Alfred?"
"I think you better get back here, sir."
***
Batman pulled the Batmobile into the Bat-Cave and came to a screeching halt. Nothing seemed especially out of the ordinary to the natural detective, which allowed him to breathe a long sigh of relief. He stepped towards the freight elevator which led back to the main part of Wayne Manor, taking his cowl off and letting it fall to the floor before he stepped in. His face revealed bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks as he solemnly pressed the button with the up arrow.
"It was always going to end this way," he heard in the back of his head. However, it wasn't either of his voices; the Batman voice or the Bruce Wayne voice. It was just there.
As the elevator reached the top floor, something felt off. Bruce began to look around the room and again there was nothing out of the ordinary. "ALFRED!?"
Bruce shouted again. "ALFRED!? DICK!?"
There was no response. He began to run through the halls of Wayne Manor until he arrived at the entrance hall where he saw the door wide open and in front of it were two bodies. One of an older man and one of a young boy. "NO!"
He rushed to Alfred's side and saw that his neck had been rotated 270 degrees. There was no doubt that he was dead. He then looked over towards the young boy who was riddled with bullets.
Bruce moved towards the body and Dick Grayson and he scooped it up into his arms. He cradled the body of the young boy as tight as he could with tears openly streaming down his face. He was too close to shed a light on it, but anyone who saw him would comment on how it mirrored a night like this one a lifetime ago; the night that Bruce lost his parents. And now here he was, himself a parent or a foster parent, cradling the dead body of a child that he had sworn to protect. The duality was lost on him. How could it not be? Batman was shutting down.
"This isn't how it's supposed to happen… everything's wrong. It all went wrong. I was supposed to save everyone… why did they all die?" Bruce asked to no one in particular. The only people that he cared to answer were dead.
The Dark Knight began to rock back and forth, allowing the blood from Dick's wounds to cover his costume. He didn't care anymore. "I wanted to save you all… I needed to save you all… I…"
"I really think you might."
Bruce spun around, still holding the child to see a man in the Nightwing costume, the costume that was the bane of his existence a few months back. "YOU!"
"Me… I really am surprised it's me as well. Interesting choice by the way. Nightwing… heh. You're many things, Bruce, but you're not subtle." The man smiled, which didn't cause Bruce any extra malice, in fact it made him take a step back and allow his features to soften. Batman watched as Nightwing continued to pace around the room as if he couldn't stand still, which was far from the only oddity. His movements were sharp, his joints were rigid and they snapped as he moved around.
Batman watched him closely, which only made his steps more rigid and calculated. "What do you mean choice? Are you saying I wanted this to happen?"
Nightwing laughed with what seemed to be an air of confidence that unnerved Bruce. "Of course not. Quite the opposite. In fact, that's why all this happened. You didn't want it to happen."
"Who are you?"
"Donald Grayson, of course. For the life of me, I can't figure out that one… giving Dick a brother. Maybe to create a separation between you and him… Nightwing, I understand. Nightwing has always been trying to take him away from you." Nightwing explained.
Batman lunged towards the masked man, his fist colliding with his chin. "WHO ARE YOU!?"
"The Joker."
Batman's eyes grew wide under his mask. "What?"
"I'm the Joker. I'm Alfred Thaddeus Pennyworth. Richard Jonathan Grayson. Or maybe James Worthington Gordon, SR… nope… just kidding. I'm Barbara Jane Gordon… can't you tell?" Nightwing laughed as he rolled away from another one of Batman's blows.
"I'll kill you!" Batman shouted.
Nightwing smiled devilishly. "That's not very Batman of you… I should know. I am you."
Batman slammed his fist into Nightwing's face, knocking his mask off and sure enough, Bruce saw something that was straight out of a mirror; a mirror that could also gaze through the past. It was a young Bruce… he was Nightwing. "This… this isn't possible."
"Of course it is, Bruce. You were always going to be the death of him."
Batman took a step back from the doppelgänger. "NO! I didn't kill him!"
"You did, Bruce. You always will!"
Suddenly Bruce's vision of the room began to grow foggy and dark. He stumbled slightly, but caught himself against the credenza in the entry way of Wayne Manor. Feeling his, hair it was slightly moist.
"Master Bruce," he heard in the distance as if it were in another world.
"Master Bruce!" Bruce fell to his knees and the room began to spin further and further to black.
***
"MASTER BRUCE!"
Bruce Wayne screamed at the top of his lungs as two strong arms ripped him from the rusted metal tank that he was in. Water gushed everywhere, soaking the man's suit who was helping Bruce from the tank. The arms laid him down on the cold concrete and began to try and steady the shaking hulk of a man. "Master Bruce, Master Bruce!"
Bruce's mania began to slow down as Alfred cradled him like a child. Alfred felt as his breathing normalized and he began to stir towards total consciousness. "Alfred?"
"I'm here, sir. Are you alright?"
Bruce lifted his hand and rubbed his face. "I think so, Alfred. How long was I in there for?"
Alfred scratched his head. "About six months, I suppose… I kept a feeding tube in there… and Doctor Strange kept monitoring your vitals… he told me that what ever you were experiencing was so intense that if I brought you out earlier, your mind might have been lost."
"I appreciate what you did, Alfred… now, help me to the study… I have some calls to make, favors to cash in on." Bruce spoke matter of factly as he tried to sit up. His movements were labored and matched with light whimpers and groans from the hulk of flesh and bone. This was the weakest he had been in as long as he could remember and it was not a feeling he relished. He cursed himself lightly under his breath as Alfred helped him to his feet.
Alfred winced, as he pulled his charge up, trying not to buckled under all of the weight. "Master Bruce, you need some rest…"
"I had six months of rest," he retorted without thinking.
Alfred shook his head. "I hardly consider detoxing from Scarecrow's fear toxin to be resting. But, please if you feel rested, I'll allow you to walk to the study yourself."
The older man stepped away for a second and Bruce began to stumble. "Not funny, Alfred."
"I wasn't trying to be. Now, what on Earth do you plan on doing?" Alfred didn't even try to hide his disdain and condescension, which Bruce clearly picked up on.
Bruce sighed. He hated to admit that Alfred was right, but the proof was in every labored step, every short breath and every twinge of burning pain that accompanied every movement. And that was just the physical. With every blink there came an image of the bullet hole ridden Dick Grayson and the mangled bodies of Barbara Gordon and Alfred. Despite it not being real, the guilt he felt was the true burning reality. It was real to him.
"Alfred, when I was in there… I saw things. I saw the darkness that is caused by being alone. Darkness that is caused by pushing everyone away…" Bruce's voice was only a whisper. Not one of pain or anguish, but of intensity.
"When Batman was born, I had a choice. I could have bled out and died right there or I could ring the bell and call for help. We both know which one I chose… and now it's time to ring it again…"
**To Be Continued in Ultimate Batman: Gotham Knights**
