A/N: I'm finally back after leaving the Batman section for two years! You have to forgive me if I'm not up to standard. Lol.

Disclaimer: Batman and all related characters belong to DC Comics. No intentional copyright infringement is intended through their use.

Names

   He saw at the console, cowl pulled back from his face so that it hung limply on the back of his neck. He ran his fingers over his eyelids, massaging some strength back into them.

   Overhead, bats screeched occasionally and the flapping of leathery wings could be heard. These were mixed with the echoing drip of water from stalactites into a small stream that ran somewhere in the cave.

   Bruce Wayne sighed. He was not one given to frequent contemplations, but when he did, it was all too easy for him to wallow in self-pity and anger at almost everyone else.

   He clicked the window of his case files close, turned off the Batcomputer, and rose from the console chair, ready to shed his costume and retire for the night.

   Superman; Wonder Woman: some of his closer allies. How did they do what they did?

   He pulled off his gloves.

   Despite the names they've adopted, either from the public or of their own, they were little more than strangers amidst those whom they tried so hard to fit with.

   And he…he himself fitted in no better than they, even though he was human. Why, then, did all of them try so hard?

   He lifted his legs in succession to take off his boots.

   Many Gothamites feared him so much, and with right cause. And to see that children sometimes cried and screamed even at the shadow he cast but briefly over them tire at him in a way no mortal pain could.

   Superman; Martian Manhunter; Wonder Woman. And he: Batman. All of them were but aliens to this world. Why did they take to names that bound them to this weak race that preyed upon its own kind?

   He shed his body suit and tights, and changed into the more comfortable civilian attire of T-shirt and pants, but this time, even with the removal of the mask, he was not taken from his mood of darker thoughts.

   As he walked towards the flight of stairs that led outward from the cave, he moved about his equipment, and turned the lights off.

   The dim blue lights that took the place of the fluorescent table lamps shone on some parts of the cave on its path from ceiling to floor, and his attention was drawn to some newspaper clippings of the year before.

   He smiled as he took in a picture on one clipping, and he did not need to read the article that accompanied it.

   He could still feel and smell the fire and smoke that seemed determined to cling to him as he carried the little girl in his arms, using his body to shield her as much as he could. She had screamed at the sight of him at first, but when he had handed her to her father, she had smiled and waved as her father had nodded in gratitude.

   Gratitude.

   He came to another cut-out.

   He had seen a man force himself onto a woman as she cried and screamed for help that she thought wouldn't come. As the man had forced her blouse open, He had swooped down to grab the rapist by a shoulder.

   But that man had been amazingly quick, and whirled around with a razor that sliced through His suit and his arm before He disarmed him.

   The woman was sobbing quietly, but had wrapped her blouse around her hurriedly. She wiped her tears dry quickly, and called out, "Wait!" when he was about to leave.

   He stopped, but did not turn.

   "Your arm: it's hurt." She retrieved the bag she had dropped, found what she wanted, and pressed a small tube of salve into his gloved hand. "Thank you," she said. "I'll call the police."

   He had nodded, unhooked his cloak to give it to her, smiled his thanks, and fled.

   Care.

   He came to one of the last clippings, of a boy bent over in grief and a woman comforting him. There was despair and rage in the boy's dark eyes, and the loss of sense and reason. But the woman was kind and patient in his memory.

   Compassion.

   He passed the last of the clippings and jerked out of his reveries. Now he knew why they had continued to live amongst and protect men, from threats to Earth and from their own follies; for just as Man had the capacity for great harm, so did they possess great compassion and goodness when moved to the occasion.

   They could fall to the deepest pits of the shadows, or rise to the highest peaks of light.

   Now he knew why they chose those names, for even as grief took them and robbed them of their sense, turning them into beings capable of great physical strength as animals possessed, but only if they adopted to the essence of mankind will they know good from evil, and choose their own path accordingly, and the burden of choosing good only enhances their greatness and beauty.

   He smiled and came to the grandfather clock at the entrance/exit of the cave, turning to glance briefly at the fluttering of wings of darkness in the cavern below.

   "Good night," he said, and closed the clock as the screeches of bats answered him.

   He was Bat, and he was Man, and that knowledge and name were enough for him.

~finis