Bruce looked up at the cloudy sky and had to wonder if the sky reflected the mood of his city. Gotham was in a panic and there was nothing he could do. Rachel, his best friend... The woman he loved was dead, and he had let the Joker disfigure Gotham's White Knight, Harvey Dent, permanently. He walked through the grounds to his parents' graves, he hadn't visited them since he had been back and it had been nagging at him for a while now, especially when he was now fighting for the soul of Gotham.
He looked down at the gravestone and placed his hand on it, the young billionaire sighed and hung his head "Mother... Father..." he began.
He took a deep breath, not sure where to begin, "I wanted to protect this city, the city that you died in, I wanted to inspire people and I failed." Bruce's mind wandered to Rachel, how she had been his hope for a life outside of Batman and how the Joker had taken that from him. "I see now what I would have to become to stop men like him." he said, repeating what he had told his oldest friend, "and I cannot be that... But there is no one else now, Gotham's last hope was blown halfway to hell... Because of me."
He had talked to Alfred about this, but it was oddly comforting to talk to this stone with his parents' name on it. "Alfred says endure, that I can be what Gotham needs, but I don't think I can... I let her die; I let that psychopath kill her." His vision began to get blurry and he wiped his eyes, realizing he was crying... He hadn't cried since his parents had died, had never really had a reason to. "I don't know what to do anymore... I have to stop him but how? He has all the criminals, the people, even the cops running scared... I'm not inspiring anyone."
He thought back to his conversation with the Joker and wondered if he had turned himself in would everything had been different? Would Rachel and Harvey be fine while he died? That was a sacrifice he was willing to make for them, Rachel had not deserved to die for his mistakes and Harvey... Harvey's fate was worse than death.
The District Attorney was lying in a hospital bed in Gotham Central, no doubt thinking of hearing Rachel's voice on the phone just as Batman had dragged him out of the room. Bruce hadn't stopped thinking about it, hearing the bit of conversation between them before he heard an explosion and then silence. He should have known Joker would switch the addresses; that the clown was just playing games with him, but he had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.
"I wish you were here" he admitted with a soft sigh, "You always knew what to say... I still remember when you told me why we fall" Bruce paused at that, the memories of the well coming back all too clearly. "We fall to pick ourselves up." Bruce whispered, "But I don't know if I can pick myself up from this.
"Batman has no limits." A voice came from behind him.
"I think he may have found them." Bruce replied, "Alfred... I thought I gave you the day off."
Bruce's best friend, and second father, simply smiled, "I saw you out here, talking, and I knew what was on your mind."
"Alfred... How do I stop a man like him?" Bruce asked.
"Well sir, I think that you need to do what you do best... Inspire people, help them rise up against the criminals like you originally intended to... If you show you are not afraid, then they will gather behind you."
"Is it that simple?" he asked, "Because it feels like the more I try to inspire people the more they wind up dead."
"That is something you must live with as The Batman, there are no easy answers but as a symbol the Batman can be anything, and can live with anything." His friend and butler replied.
"Thank you Alfred" he said and turned around, he had a psychopath to stop and a city to save because he was the only one left to do it, he was The Batman.
Note: This is one of those ideas that just wouldn't leave me alone, I hope you like it! Please R&R and as always I don't own Batman or anything related.