But You Can Call Me Gotham (#JustWriteIt #FreshStart) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 10: Letter and Epilogue

It's amazing how someone can die and only a few people are affected.

There was no funeral.

As Simon sat against Gotham's tree, he remembered running after her to see her stab herself and to find her dying from bloodloss in the bathtub.

He swore that without Gotham the world looked a whole lot more frightening.

Simon was broken. Gotham had taken a part of his heart with her when she had killed herself.

Today, he was going to visit Gotham's house for the third time.

It probably wouldn't be his last.

It was still a run-down building, and he doubted anyone would want to buy it.

Still, he felt like he should keep them from buying it. They would probably be part of them--as Gotham had called them.

Simon still couldn't see what was so bad about society. He had always thought she was exaggerating. Did that make him a bad person?

As he entered the house, he could still smell the dust in the air. This time, it smelled nice, and it reminded him of her.

He slowly walked through the house, and passed the Door without looking at it.

Temptation, why do you hate me?

He walked into Gotham's room to find it still dusty, the windows still dirty, her closet still--he stared at the floor of the closet. There was something there.

He picked it up.

A letter?

He flipped it over and read his name, written in a child's writing, then opened it.

Dear Simon,

I figured it out. I'm the city, society's the Joker, and you're Batman. But you didn't really do well at your job. Because...well, if you're reading this, I'm dead. I'm sorry. But I didn't feel like I belonged here. You were the first friend I ever had. Thanks. But look at you. You fought against them. That's why you're Batman. By the way, tell your dad I said hi. And maybe you could clean up my parent's room a bit? In case someone moves in?

Gotham.

P.s., the money was from my dad.

Money?

He shook the envelope and a ton of money came out.

Exactly 500 dollars.

Tears rolled down Simon's cheeks.

My god, I miss her.

"It wasn't her time!" he yelled. "They're the ones who should have died, not her! I didn't get to tell her..."

He broke down then, falling to his knees. He wasn't one to cry much, but it felt good to let it out where no one could see him.

He sobbed for a while, then put the letter in his pocket and walked out of the room. He stood, then, in front of the Door. He noticed it wasn't latched. He pulled on it, to try and close it, but it didn't. The latch was broken.