Fawkes

Big Deal

I stared at his masked face through the darkness and realized he could see my true features. I don't mean just me without a mask. There were plenty of times where he had seen my actual face. No, I mean he could see my emotion. I was vulnerable. I wasn't wearing a stoic expression, but I didn't care.

"It's all my fault," was all I could say. "It's all my fault."

All I could do was repeat it over and over as I sat there in front of Gotham's great protector. He must've thought I was pathetic. I was letting more and more emotion show, and upon realizing that I regained my blank face and stood up.

"Where's . . . um." I didn't want to say his name, and Batman understood. He understood that I didn't want to seem vulnerable in front of him, but he seemed surprised that I wasn't crying.

"The cops will take care of him from here."

I nodded, putting on my same old guarded expression and standing with my arms crossed and my feet shoulder width apart. I wanted to crumble into a ball and cry for years, but I was standing in front of Batman, and there was no way I'd show weakness.

"You can arrest me now too," I said, "I don't care anymore. I've nothing left to live for."

He looked at me with pity, but stopped when I threw him a death glare.

"You have a choice here," he said, "You can come with me. Live with me. You can stop this killing and lying and cheating. Or you can live the rest of your days in a prison cell."

"Not much of a choice, is there?" I asked him dully.

He stepped towards me and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know it's rough at first. But it will get better."

I raised my eyebrow, and shoved his hand off me, "There's no point in lying."

He sighed, "Just come with me and I'll give you a day to decide."

I had nothing else to say. I had nothing else to do so I agreed. I couldn't think straight so I nodded my head and said 'okay.'

I stared at my parents longingly and looked back at Batman, "Let me bury them first."

He nodded, and although I didn't know where to start, I knew it had to be done.

*****

Four hours later I stood with a shovel in hand and sweat dripping down my face. Batman had left to stop some robbery, and I had said my farewells to my parents. I grabbed a nearby cement block and pulled out one of my iron knives. I was in a cemetery, and although this wasn't an official funeral, or an official spot to bury them, I had to make them some sort of a headstone. So I, heating up the tip of the knife with a lighter, began carving, although it was quite difficult.

Janette and Frederick Winston
Loving parents

I stood up and dusted off my clothing, placing the cement block above the mound of fresh dirt. I held a solemn face, but a single tear finally managed to slip out, and after that I couldn't stop. I turned away, not used to the vulnerability shown with crying. I hated the feeling, it made me feel weak and unnecessarily sad. Or maybe that was just the grief talking.

Either way, I couldn't stop the tears as they streamed down my face, and I sat down on a nearby rock, burying my face in my hands.

I shouldn't have gone and found them. I shouldn't have tried to meet them. I never should have left. I was stupid, the stupidest decision and the biggest regret. I groaned and placed my head between my knees to stop the spiralling of the world around me. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and sob my way to Timbuktu. I just needed to be emotional for one night because I had been balling up everything for so long. For too long. I was forced to be as hard as a rock since I was born. I needed this, I needed to grieve and regret everything.