Dick pleaded with Jason; his tone tinged with urgency. "Jason, you have to understand. Bruce needs to see you. He needs to know that you're alive."
Jason's response was laced with bitterness. "And what? Get a lecture from the big Bat about how I screwed up or how I should have stayed dead?"
"It won't be like that, Jay," Dick countered, his voice softening. "Bruce cares about you. He's been grieving for you all this time. He needs closure."
"Closure?" Jason scoffed. "Yeah, well, I needed closure too, Dick. But I didn't get that luxury when I woke up in that coffin."
Dick flinched at the reminder; his face etched with pain at the thought of his Little Wing suffering like that. "I know, Jason. I know it's been rough. But keeping yourself hidden isn't going to solve anything."
Jason sighed, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident in his voice. "Look, Dick, I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I'm not ready to face Bruce yet. Not until he can accept the truth."
"What truth?" Dick inquired, genuinely curious.
"That I'm back. That I'm alive. And that it's not some sick joke or illusion," Jason replied, his words heavy with emotion.
"You know Bruce," Dick reasoned. "He's not going to believe it until he sees it with his own eyes."
"Then let him see the evidence," Jason suggested. "Let him look through the data, the reports, whatever it takes to convince him."
"Fine," Dick relented. "But promise me you'll consider talking to him eventually. He needs you, Jay. We all do."
"I'll think about it," Jason conceded. "But for now, I need some space. And Bruce needs to come to terms with reality before we can have any kind of reunion."
"Alright, Jason. I understand," Dick said, a sense of understanding in his voice. Dick hesitated before broaching the subject. "So, are you planning to take Damian and Billy with you back to Fawcett City?"
Jason nodded; his expression resolute. "Yeah, I will. I'd rather not have their first impression of Bruce be him going all Batman paranoid on them, accusing them of being spies or trying to infiltrate his family."
Dick winced at the thought, knowing all too well Bruce's tendency to jump to conclusions. "Yeah, I get that. Bruce can be... intense."
"Intense is one way to put it," Jason remarked dryly, a hint of bitterness in his tone.
Dick sighed, understanding Jason's concerns. "I'll talk to Bruce, make sure he understands. He needs to know that Damian and Billy are innocent bystanders in all of this."
Jason's expression softened, appreciative of Dick's understanding. "Thanks, Dick. I appreciate it."
"What about you? Are you truly, okay?" Dick continued.
Jason shrugged, a mask of indifference slipping over his features. "I'll manage. Just need to keep moving forward."
"You don't have to do it alone, Jay," Dick reminded him gently. "We're all here for you."
Jason offered a small, grateful smile. "I know. And I appreciate that."
Dick reached out, squeezing Jason's shoulder in a gesture of support. "Take care of yourself, okay? And let me know if you need anything."
"I will," Jason promised, returning the gesture. "Thanks, Dick."
Dick turned back to Jason, a curious expression on his face. "Oh, before I forget, what's in the letter you wanted me to pass to Bruce?"
Jason hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet Dick's. "Just some things I need to say to him. Stuff that's better written down than said face-to-face."
Dick nodded understandingly, sensing the weight of Jason's unspoken emotions. "Alright, I'll make sure he gets it."
"Thanks, Goldie," Jason said quietly, a mix of relief and apprehension evident in his voice.
"Don't mention it," Dick replied with a reassuring smile, though he couldn't shake the feeling of unease lingering in the air. "I'll take care of it."
With that, Dick bid Jason farewell once more and headed off to deliver the letter, hoping it would bring some semblance of closure to both Jason and Bruce. Then Alfred took his chance to approach, Jason's shoulders tensed slightly, anticipating the reproach he knew he deserved. Alfred's disappointed gaze met Jason's, but instead of scolding him, the butler's expression softened with a resigned sigh.
"Master Jason," Alfred began, his voice carrying a weight of both concern and understanding. "I've taken the liberty of packing your bags, as well as a box of your favorite cookies."
Jason's lips curved into a grateful smile at Alfred's gesture, a flicker of warmth amidst the tension that had been hanging in the air. "Thanks, Alfred," he murmured, his voice tinged with remorse. "Sorry for all the trouble."
Alfred shook his head gently, his tone gentle yet firm. "There's no need for apologies, my boy. I understand your reasons, and I could never fault you for protecting your brothers."
Jason's eyes softened at Alfred's words, a swell of gratitude and affection welling up within him. The bond he shared with Alfred was a cherished one, built on years of shared struggles and unwavering support. He was the grandfather he had always dreamed of having.
"Thanks, Alfie," Jason said, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled Alfred into a heartfelt hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Alfred returned the embrace, a sense of pride swelling within him as he held Jason close. "You've grown into a remarkable man, Jason," he said softly. "Your brothers need you, now more than ever. And I couldn't be prouder of the person you've become."
With a final squeeze, Jason released Alfred from the embrace, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thanks, Alfred," he repeated, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "For everything."
As they exchanged one last lingering look, an unspoken understanding passing between them, Jason turned to leave, his heart heavy yet fortified by the support of his family. "If you guys are done, the kids are in the car already," as Roy leaned against the doorframe with that trademark smirk of his, Jason couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude toward his boyfriend. Roy always seemed to know just what to do to lighten the mood, even in the midst of heavy conversations.
"Thanks, Roy," Jason said, his voice carrying a hint of relief as he straightened up, ready to leave. "I owe you one."
Roy waved off Jason's gratitude with a casual flick of his hand. "No problem, Jaybird. Anything for you and the kiddos."
Jason walked toward Roy, his heart lighter knowing that he had the support of his chosen family. As Roy pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, Jason felt a surge of warmth and reassurance wash over him. With Roy by his side, he knew he could face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, they walked out of the Wayne Manor, ready to face whatever the future held.
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Bruce slumped in his chair in front of the Batcomputer, his usual sharp focus completely gone. The glow from the screens flickered across his face, casting strange shadows in the dim cave. His hands shook as they hovered over the keyboard, unable to move as he stared at the evidence on the screen. Positive DNA test results blinked at him, almost daring him to believe it. Jason was alive. The son he'd thought was gone forever was actually out there, thriving. Bruce's heart ached as he tried to process this huge revelation.
Images and articles kept flashing across the monitors, hitting Bruce like a ton of bricks. There were photos of Jason, looking happy and healthy, graduating from Oxford with flying colors. Headlines boasted about his success as a best-selling author, with critics and fans raving about his novels. Bruce was overwhelmed, realizing all the milestones he'd missed and the moments he'd never get back. He was drowning in regret and guilt, angry at himself for not seeing the signs earlier, for letting his grief cloud his judgment.
Tears blurred Bruce's vision as he grappled with the enormity of his mistake. He felt the deep pain of knowing he could never get back the lost time or undo the hurt he'd caused. But alongside that pain, there was a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late to make things right. Taking a shaky breath, Bruce leaned back in his chair. He knew he needed to find Jason, to face him and ask for his forgiveness. He owed his son that much, at the very least. And maybe, in doing so, he could start to heal the rift that had grown between them.
As Bruce's thoughts raced, memories came flooding back. He remembered the first time he'd held one of Jason's novels, feeling a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Clark and Tim had both praised it, their excitement infectious. Bruce had been eager to see what his son had achieved. When he finally read it, he was blown away. The book was a masterpiece, every word drawing him into its world. He was captivated by the story, the characters, and the twists and turns.
But underneath his admiration was a gnawing ache—a painful reminder of everything he'd lost. Reading Jason's book while believing he was dead had stirred up emotions Bruce had tried to bury. The title of one particular novel, A Death in the Family, sent a chill down his spine. The cruel irony of the title, mirroring his own tragic loss, wasn't lost on him. As he turned the pages, a sense of dread washed over him, the weight of the words pressing down like a heavy burden.
Each sentence reminded him of his past anguish and the guilt he'd felt after Jason's death. The story felt hauntingly familiar, echoing his own pain. Now that Bruce knew Jason was alive and had written A Death in the Family, the book took on a chilling new meaning. It seemed to haunt him, whispering accusations and probing deep into his soul. The title alone was enough to make him shiver.
Bruce couldn't shake the feeling that Jason might have wanted him to go after the Joker. It nagged at him, like a shadow he couldn't ignore. Was this Jason's way of pulling him into some kind of revenge game from beyond? And then, the thought of Jason possibly being involved in the Joker's death hit Bruce like a cold wave. The idea made him shiver, a mix of dread and twisted satisfaction bubbling up. On one hand, the idea of his son crossing such a line was heartbreaking. On the other, it was almost gratifying to think of the Joker getting what he deserved.
But more than anything, Bruce felt like his own principles were being challenged. His no-killing rule had always been a big part of who he was, a line he promised never to cross. Now, faced with the reality that Jason had become a killer, Bruce was torn. It should have been a huge disappointment, a betrayal of everything he'd tried to teach his kids. Yet, oddly enough, all he felt was relief that Jason was alive. Despite everything, that was what mattered most—Jason was back, and there was still a chance for them to be a family again.
Just then, Dick appeared behind Bruce, noticing him slumped in front of the Batcomputer, looking utterly defeated. Dick's voice was gentle as he said, "Bruce, come on. Don't be like this."
Bruce sighed heavily, his face showing his sadness. "I can't believe he didn't want to see me."
"It's not about wanting to see you, Bruce," Dick said softly. "Jason's been through a lot. He's not ready to face everything yet."
Bruce's frustration was clear as he responded, "But I'm his father. I should be able to help him through this."
Dick shook his head, understanding Bruce's feelings but knowing there was more to it. "You will help him, Bruce. But pushing him before he's ready won't do any good. Jason needs time to process everything on his own."
Bruce's brow furrowed as he wrestled with his emotions. "I know, but I feel like I've failed him."
"You haven't failed him, Bruce," Dick said firmly but gently. "No one blames you for his death. Especially not Jason. The only one who does is yourself."
Bruce looked at Dick, his face showing how much those words meant to him. "I just wish I knew how to fix things between us."
"You will," Dick reassured him with a supportive smile. "It'll take time, but you'll find a way. And remember, you've got us. We're here for you, Bruce. Always."
With that, Dick reached into his pocket and handed Bruce a letter. "Here," he said warmly. "This is from Jason. He wanted you to have it."
Bruce's eyes widened as he took the letter, his curiosity piqued. He gave Dick a rare, genuine smile. "Thanks, Dick."
Dick returned the smile, his own expression softening. "Anytime, Bruce," he replied, and with a nod, he left Bruce alone in the Batcave, the letter clutched tightly in his hand.
Bruce unfolded the letter with trembling hands, his heart racing as he read Jason's words. Tears welled up in his eyes as he absorbed the contents, each line hitting him with a mix of emotions.
Dad,
I hope this letter finds you well, though I know it's probably causing you more pain than anything else. I want you to know that I'm okay, that I've come to terms with what happened to me. It's not your fault, B. I want to talk to you about something important, B. I know you've been carrying this weight for a long time, but it's time to let it go. The Joker killed me, not you. You did everything you could to save me, and for that, I'll always be grateful.
I now know that I do not need you to avenge my death. Forcing you to break your rules is not the way I need you to prove your love. That I would not be any better than the Joker if I went down that path. Revenge won't bring me back, and it won't make things right. I've made my peace with what happened, and I hope you can too.
But there's something else I need to say, B, and it's not going to be easy for either of us. I need you to understand that I can't come back to Gotham, not until things change. Not until you change. You weren't there for me when I needed you most, B. You were too caught up in your own crusade to see what was happening to me. No child should have to become a hero, B. No child should have to wear a mask and fight criminals in the dead of night. I was just a kid, B, and you let me down.
I know you love me, B. I've always known that. But love isn't enough. You have to do better. You have to put your family before your vendetta. Until you can do that, I can't come back. I won't let Billy and Damian grow up in the same world I did. They deserve better, B. They deserve a father who puts them first.
I'm sorry, Dad. I wish things could be different, but they can't. Not yet, anyway. Maybe someday we can make things right between us, but for now, I have to do what's best for my brothers. I hope you can understand.
Take care of yourself, Dad. And take care of Gotham. I know you'll do what's right.
Your son,
Jay-lad.
As Bruce reads Jason's letter, the raw honesty of Jason's words hits him hard. Each line is packed with Jason's pain, resentment, love, and forgiveness. It feels like a weight is being lifted off Bruce's shoulders, but it's quickly replaced by a new kind of anguish. Jason's words dig deep, challenging Bruce to face his own failures as a father and the part he played in shaping Jason's path. It's a brutal reminder of how Bruce's choices have impacted his son, and it makes Bruce's heart ache with regret.
Tears stream down Bruce's face as he reaches Jason's final words, his voice cracking with every breath. He's overwhelmed with sorrow and shame, but there's a flicker of hope too. Jason's love for his brothers, Billy and Damian, shines through, showing just how strong their family bond is. As Bruce finishes the letter, he's flooded with a profound sense of loss and longing. He understands that Jason's choice to stay away, while painful, is necessary.
With a heavy heart, Bruce folds the letter and holds it close, his mind racing with the weight of Jason's words. He knows he has a long road ahead—one of healing and redemption. For now, all he can do is grieve for the son he's lost and hope for a chance to make things right.
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Tim shifted uncomfortably as he stood on the doorstep of Jason, Damian, and Billy's house in Fawcett City. He wasn't entirely sure why he had mustered the courage to sneak out of Gotham and come all this way. All he knew was that he had screwed up big time, been a real jerk to his family, and now he needed to make things right somehow. Lost in his thoughts, Tim was startled when the door swung open, revealing a grinning Jason leaning against the frame.
"Well, look who's here," Jason said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Are you planning on standing out there all day or are you gonna come in?"
Tim felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he mumbled an apology and stepped inside. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do. As they made their way to the living room, Jason couldn't resist giving Tim a playful ribbing. "You've got a knack for disappearing act, don't you?" he said, shaking his head. "Dick was freaking out, man. Had no idea where you'd gone off to."
Tim winced, feeling the weight of his actions pressing down on him. He'd caused his family so much worry, and now he had to face the consequences. Sitting down in the living room, Jason shot him a curious look. "So, spill it," he said. "What brings you all the way out here?"
Tim took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew he owed them an explanation but putting it into words was harder than he'd anticipated. Tim took a deep breath, steeling himself to finally come clean to Jason. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice wavering with emotion. "I was a total asshole. I lied to everyone, ran away, and got lost in the timestream. I messed up the rescue mission and got Batman back, but as the Dark Ranger, this dark time entity. I left everything for you to clean up, and I'm sorry."
Jason listened quietly as Tim poured out his heart, his expression softening with each word. When Tim finally fell silent, Jason let out a heavy sigh. "Kid," he said, his voice gentle, "you were just a teenager. Messing up is part of growing up, and they should've never let you get involved in this mess in the first place."
Tim's brows furrowed as if he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue, listening to Jason's words. Jason reached out and placed a hand on Tim's shoulder. "But hey," he continued, offering a small smile, "we all make mistakes. What's important is that you learn from them."
Tim nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I understand," he said quietly. "But," he added, a hint of determination creeping into his voice, "I'm not gonna stop being a vigilante. Gotham needs me, and I can't just walk away."
Jason's smile widened, genuine warmth shining in his eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, kid," he said. "You already finished high school and will turn eighteen soon, so there's nothing I can say about it. Just promise me you'll be careful out there, okay?"
Tim nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "I promise." Then, hesitantly, he added, "Hey, Jason... I know we've had our differences, but... I hope maybe this time, we can be friends. I mean, you were always my favorite hero growing up, and now you're my favorite author."
Jason's smile softened, and he reached out to ruffle Tim's hair affectionately. "Kid," he said softly, "you're not just my friend. You're my brother."
Tim's eyes widened in surprise, and then a wide grin broke out on his face. "Really?" he said, his voice filled with genuine happiness.
"Really," Jason confirmed, returning Tim's smile. And at that moment, Tim knew that everything was going to be okay.
As they sat there, the weight of their conversation lifting, Tim felt a surge of courage. He had something else he needed to get off his chest. "Jason," he began, hesitating slightly, "I... I think I've outgrown Robin." Jason's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he didn't interrupt, waiting for Tim to continue. "I mean, don't get me wrong," Tim hurried to explain, "being Robin has been amazing. But lately, I've been feeling like I need something more. Something... different."
Jason nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "It happens to every Robin, Tim," he said gently. "Eventually, you start to feel like you're ready to spread your wings and fly solo."
Tim let out a relieved sigh, grateful that Jason understood. "Yeah," he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Exactly."
Jason leaned back in his chair, regarding Tim thoughtfully. "So," he said after a moment, "do you have another vigilante identity in mind? Or are you planning on going rogue?"
Tim chuckled, feeling a spark of excitement at the prospect of carving out a new identity for himself. "Gotham already has a Nightwing," he said, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "I think it's time Flamebird made his debut in the dark city."
Jason's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then he burst out laughing. "Flamebird, huh?" he said, shaking his head in amusement. "I like it. It's got a nice ring to it. And you know me, I am up for anything that will make the big bat angry."
Tim grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect of stepping into this new role. "Thanks, Jason," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."
Jason clapped him on the back, a proud smile on his face. "Anytime, kid," he said. "Anytime." And as they sat there, planning Tim's next move, Tim couldn't help but feel excited for the future.
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As Bruce thought back over the last month, he felt a mix of emotions swirling around him. There was a heavy dose of regret for the slip-ups, missed moments, and the pain he'd caused his kids. But alongside that was a fierce determination to fix things and be the dad they deserved. Talking things out with Dinah had been tough but necessary. It was hard to open up about his fears and mistakes, but Dinah's support helped him face his issues and start finding a way forward.
Sitting down with Dick, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie was just as challenging. Apologizing and showing them how much he cared broke Bruce's heart. He wondered how things had gotten so strained and how they could ever doubt his love. But when they hugged him and shared their tears, Bruce felt a spark of hope. Maybe there was still a chance to mend what had been fractured and rebuild those connections.
In those heartfelt moments with his kids, Bruce realized just how much they meant to him. They were his everything, his reason for fighting and living. He promised himself he'd do whatever it took to make things right and show them how much they were loved. Looking at their tear-streaked faces gave him a renewed sense of purpose. He might have stumbled along the way, but he was determined to be the dad they needed.
That sense of purpose only grew stronger when he finally got to join his kids on patrol. As he swung through Gotham's dark skyline, his heart swelled with pride. There was no greater honor than fighting side by side with his children, watching them grow into the heroes they were meant to be.
With every swing of his grappling hook and every leap across Gotham's rooftops, Batman felt alive. The city, now alive with supernatural beings blending in with the usual hustle, was always changing. From Burnley Island's eerie depths to Diamond District's lively streets, their presence was undeniable. But to the average person, the supernatural was still a secret. Bruce marveled at how Gotham had transformed, becoming a sanctuary for the supernatural, showing its ability to adapt and evolve.
The news from New Town hit Batman first. Red Ghoul's plan to capture Black Mask had been a stroke of genius, and now Black Mask was in FBI custody, out of the equation. But it wasn't just about Black Mask's downfall. What really caught Batman's attention was the way the supernatural beings had taken over. The streets that once roiled with criminal chaos were now under their control.
It was like stepping into a different world. The supernatural factions—who had once been lurking in the shadows—were now asserting their dominance. Batman had seen many things, but this was new. Reports detailed how these beings had used their abilities to ward off attempts by the mafia to muscle in. The mafia, typically a ruthless force in Gotham, had found themselves outmatched by the supernatural's sheer power and strategy.
As Batman processed this, he couldn't help but feel a mix of wonder and apprehension. The city was evolving, and not always in ways he could predict or control. The supernatural influence was both fascinating and unnerving. It was a reminder that Gotham was in a constant state of flux, and even he had to adjust his tactics and expectations.
Next came Cherry Hills. Freeze's departure was significant. His exit had left a considerable gap, one that the Martha Wayne Foundation was quick to fill. But what really got Batman's attention was the involvement of Leviathan. They had stepped in to fund Freeze's research, which was a mixed bag. On one hand, it was good that Freeze could continue his work away from crime, but on the other, Leviathan was far from a straightforward ally.
Batman's feelings were tangled. Freeze's involvement with Leviathan stirred up old memories and feelings. Seeing Victor getting cozy with Leviathan wasn't exactly comforting. But knowing that Thalia had facilitated this shift for Jason's sake gave Batman pause. Thalia's motives were driven by a desire to support Jason, and Freeze's move was a step away from his criminal past.
Even though Batman was wary of Leviathan's intentions, he chose to focus on the positive side for now. Freeze was no longer a threat, and Thalia's influence seemed to be guiding him toward something better. It was a complicated situation, but Batman understood that sometimes, the best he could do was to let certain things play out while he focused on the bigger picture.
As for Otisburg, Bane had once ruled it with an iron fist, turning it into his personal fiefdom of fear and control. But Bane's ambitions had taken him to Nanda Parbat, a decision that proved to be his undoing. Madame Xanadu had swiftly ended his reign, her justice as final as it was unexpected. This power vacuum had given Dick and Barbara the opening they needed to expand the Martha Wayne Foundation's influence.
Batman remembered the first whispers of Bane's departure. He had been skeptical, thinking it was just another ploy. But when the reports came in confirming Bane's demise, he felt a mix of relief and unease. Relief that a major threat was gone, but unease at the power vacuum it created. The rogues of Gotham were quick to test the waters, but they hadn't reckoned with the werewolves who had taken up residence in Otisburg. Watching the footage of their failed attempts, Batman couldn't help but smirk. These werewolves were a new variable, and they were making it clear that the old rules no longer applied.
Next, Batman turned his attention to Crime Alley. Or rather, what used to be Crime Alley. Red Ghoul and Spoiler had been putting in the work, and it showed. The place had transformed from a neglected, crime-ridden area into a lively community. Batman recalled the nights he'd spent patrolling those streets, the weight of his parents' death heavy on his shoulders. Now, families walked those same streets without fear. It was almost like the old days, when it was known as Park Row.
The process had been slow and painstaking. Batman had watched the results of Red Ghoul and Spoiler's efforts. As they organized community events, built trust with the locals, and gradually pushed out the criminal elements. It wasn't just about fighting crime; it was about rebuilding a sense of community. Seeing the neighborhood come back to life filled Batman with a deep sense of pride. He had always believed that Gotham could be saved, and here was the proof.
The Bowery was another success story. Once a haven for vice and corruption, it was now a bustling hub of activity. Merchants and artisans had moved in, bringing new life to the area. Batman remembered the first time he saw the changes taking place. It was during a late-night patrol, and instead of the usual shady dealings, he saw market stalls and people chatting over coffee. The transformation hadn't been easy. It had taken coordinated efforts from multiple fronts, including the Martha Wayne Foundation, to clean up the area. But it was worth it. Batman felt a sense of accomplishment knowing that they had turned one of the city's darkest areas into a beacon of hope.
Yet, as Batman looked over the city, there was still a shadow that loomed large: Robinsville. The Penguin's grip on the neighborhood was as strong as ever. Despite the waning influence of other crime lords, the Penguin had managed to hold on to his territory. His shrewdness and business acumen kept him ahead of the game, allowing him to adapt where others failed.
Batman's relationship with the Penguin was complicated. He respected his intelligence but despised his methods. Watching Robinsville remain under the Penguin's control was a bitter pill to swallow. It was a stark reminder that there was still work to be done. The Penguin's ability to cut his losses and focus on his domain made him a formidable foe. Batman knew that taking him down would require more than just brute force—it would require strategy and patience.
Batman's thoughts were a whirlwind of amazement and pride as he looked out over Gotham. He'd spent years trying to breathe life back into the city's roughest neighborhoods, but the criminal underworld had always pushed back hard. Burnley Island was especially tough. No matter how much effort the Martha Wayne Foundation put in, organized crime kept its claws sunk deep. But while he'd been tied up elsewhere, his kids had stepped up, pulling off what he'd thought was impossible.
Seeing Crime Alley and The Bowery bustling with activity now was almost surreal. The gentrification had worked, and the once-dangerous streets were now full of life and energy. His kids had taken on the mantle of protectors of Gotham and run with it. Foster homes and orphanages supported by the Foundation were giving kids a chance at a normal childhood—school, a safe place to sleep, and full stomachs. Homeless people had access to shelters and resources to get back on their feet. The change was palpable.
Standing there, looking out at the city, Batman felt his heart swell. His kids had achieved in a year what he'd been battling to accomplish for so long. They were set to rejuvenate New Town and Cherry Hills next, with Otisburg following close behind. Their commitment to Gotham was undeniable. Yet, he couldn't shake a slight twinge of jealousy. It stung a bit that they had succeeded where he'd faced constant setbacks. His relentless efforts had often felt like they were hitting a wall of corruption and crime.
But even with that bit of envy, pride was the dominant feeling. He admired their grit and determination. They had taken up the fight when he couldn't, and they were making real progress. As he watched the cityscape—Crime Alley now a safe, vibrant area, Slaughter Swamp transformed into a nature reserve—he felt a wave of contentment. The darkest parts of Gotham were now brimming with hope and opportunity, thanks to his kids' dedication.
Despite the envy, Batman chose to focus on the positive. Crime rates were dropping, fewer people were homeless, and poverty was loosening its grip. Gotham was changing for the better, and that was something worth celebrating.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Batman soared through the night sky, landing on a rooftop. Nightwing touched down beside him, while Flamebird, Spoiler, and Black Bat fanned out across Burnley. This area was now home to one of the new Martha Wayne Foundation branches. Batman turned to his son, his pride evident. "It's incredible what they've accomplished."
"Yeah, they've been busy. Got branches in every neighborhood now. They're helping folks find jobs, finish their education. Night schools, vocational training, you name it." Nightwing couldn't hide his happiness at sharing these accomplishments with his dad. Even after Bruce came back, Dick stayed as Chairman of the Martha Wayne Foundation, and he loved working there. "And that's not all. The Foundation's been sponsoring schools, making sure kids from lower-income families get the education they deserve."
Batman looked down at the citizens below. "They're making a real difference."
"They've even bought up the Ridge Street Theater and Bay Street Theater. They're creating cultural hubs, places for people to express themselves through art, music, theater," Nightwing continued, clearly excited about this. "Not only that, they've taken over Amusement Mill. It took a lot of work and money, but they've turned the amusement park into a fun and safe destination for families. Created hundreds of jobs, too."
"It's about time," Batman smiled under the cowl, remembering the fairs and carnivals he took his kids to when they passed through Gotham. Now there was a steady place for families to enjoy together.
Their quality time was cut short as Talia Al Ghul appeared on the rooftop beside them. Nightwing's glare at her was intense, Talia, however, seemed unfazed by his disapproval, her attention solely on Bruce. "My Beloved, it's been too long."
Batman regarded her with a guarded expression. "Talia."
Nightwing couldn't hold back. "What's she doing here?"
Talia ignored him, focusing on Batman. "We need to talk."
Batman gestured for Nightwing to leave. "Go join the others on patrol, Nightwing."
"Are you sure, B?" Nightwing's skepticism was clear.
Batman nodded firmly. "Trust me."
Nightwing grumbled but obeyed, reluctantly leaving the rooftop. As he departed, the tension between Batman and Talia thickened, their complicated history and conflicting loyalties hanging in the air. Despite everything, the connection between them was undeniable.
"He still has much to learn," Talia commented, watching Nightwing leave with a hint of amusement.
Batman turned back to her. "What do you want? Especially after keeping my sons from me."
Talia met his gaze with a mix of sadness and determination. "I did it to keep them alive, beloved. You know that."
Batman's expression was unreadable. "You could have trusted me to protect them."
Talia shook her head, her voice tinged with regret. "After what happened to the second Robin, I couldn't take that risk. Not with my prince and later with Red Ghoul. Not with our sons."
Batman winced at the mention of Jason, his jaw tightening. "I lost Robin because of the Joker."
Talia nodded solemnly. "And I couldn't bear the thought of losing another child to Gotham's darkness. I had to keep them away from that life. Something I wish my mother had done for me."
Batman was silent for a moment, absorbing her words. "You could have told me. I deserved to know."
"Red Ghoul asked me to stay silent. He thought it would be easier if you didn't know," Talia looked at him with sorrowful eyes.
"I see," Batman closed his eyes briefly, a pang of guilt washing over him.
Talia reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Do you hate me, Bruce? For what I've done?"
Batman opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "No. I can't hate you, Talia. You kept our sons safe when I couldn't."
"Then perhaps there's hope for us yet," Talia squeezed his arm gently, a small smile touching her lips.
Batman nodded, a sense of resolution settling over him. "Perhaps."