Batman was gliding through the Cauldron, surveying a neighborhood within. He felt the wind hitting the exposed part of his face; the flutter of his cape giving a slight gyration to his upper back and head.
He steered toward the tallest building and landed. The dark blue figure made his way toward the edge.
Hm. Always liked this vantage point.
He stayed there for a half hour, watching the neighborhood.
Quiet. Hrm.
He pulled out his grapnel gun before hesitating.
Oh right, I told her I'd-
"Oh shit! Wait! Don't!"
The Bat reattached the gadget to his belt and looked over the edge of the building. He spotted where the commotion originated. He touched his thumb to the side of his middle finger, activating what Dick called "detective mode" back when he was Robin.
Batman looked down and saw three blue skeletons, two parents and their child recoiling at the sight of the red skeleton.
A mugging. In HIS city.
"Quiet!" The thief shouted, evidently not aware of the irony of raising one's voice to utter such a demand.
"Keep your fucking voices down. Wallets, phones, jewelry, or I let the gun do the talking."
The thief looked older. Crazed. He pointed at them a weapon that looked younger. It was a handgun. A Hi-Point Model C-9.
"Okay, okay," the mother frantically spewed, brandishing her wallet, "just don't shoot."
The thief began to get nervous. Rightfully so.
"Hurry up-" the thief attempted to demand before abruptly being under a large dark figure with glowing white eyes.
The married couple were still scared, but their boy wasn't. He knew that the figure was a benevolent force: "The goddamn Batman". His classmates talked about Gotham's superhero all the time.
The figure slowly stood upright, as not to startle them.
"The police are on their way," the figure growled, stepping into the light, "he didn't hurt you, but they'll-" he froze and stared at the family under a street lamp.
That was his family once: a scared man pointing a gun at them-
"Are you okay, Batman?" the boy asked the hero.
"Don't worry about me." he replied, his fist clenched, magma flowing through his veins.
Don't show it. Leave first. Release later.
"You saved us. Thank you." the mother said, her voice still a little shaky.
Batman turned his head to the father.
"Take your family toward the street. When the cops get here, ask for officer Renée Montoya."
The family did as the hero said and walked the other way toward the street.
He crouched down and picked up the pistol. He took the cowardly weapon by the slide and the grip and snapped it like it was Lego. The barrel, recoil spring, and the ammo exploded into a heap of mangled plastic, metal, and bullets. He then tied up the would-be thief and left him there. Montoya will take it from here.
He felt the rage burning, his chest heavy, his fists tightenting. He quickly pulled out the grapnel and fired at the building he stood on earlier. He pressed the accelerator on the top of the grip. The grapnel yanked the Dark Knight toward the building at ninety miles an hour, launching him over it. He quickly grabbed the sides of the cape and extended it.Once again he was in the air, and he felt like he was going to explode.
This has happened before. You've stopped a thousand muggings. You've brought this whole city back when it was destroyed by an earthquake. You had your "super friends" build you a suit that could kill you so you can effectively punch an intergalactic dictator with laser eyes.
You even let yourself...
Love.
WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING ANGRY!?!?!?
Batman landed on the nearest, tallest building he could find. He walked To the middle of the roof, dropped to his knees and started punching the roof and screaming.
"FUUUUCK!!!! FUCK! FUCK! RAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The poor bastard was lucky he was wearing thick kevlar gloves, or he'd have to have his faithful butler put in a splint. Or three.
He stopped.
Breathe.
Bruce took a deep breath, he was already starting to feel a little bit better, but... empty.
He closed his eyes behind the lenses, behind the monstrous mask.
"Mom? I need you." Bruce whispered.
"Bruce? Baby what's the matter?" his mother said, her voice so sweet and gentle. It was almost like he was a kid again, and some superstitious and cowardly human stain with a revolver didn't ruin his life.
"Something's wrong mom, please help me." his voice started to shake.
"I know honey, you need to tell me so I can help."
He took a deep breath. He'd never yell at his mother.
He said never about a lot of things.
"That family.." he told the sweet voice in his head "It looked like us mom."
"I see. What makes this one different?" she replied, still keeping that motherly tone.
"I... I think.." Bruce muttered, still trying to maintain SOME composure.
"You've dealt with your feelings for so long on your own."
"I haven't been on my own, Mom. I have a family. Alfred, Damian, Dick, Cass, Tim, Jason, Kate, Steph, Duke... heh... Clark called me his brother."
Bruce found himself bewildered by all the people in his life. A son, cloned by the daughter of a megalomaniacal eco-terrorist
"Yes, and I'm proud of you for letting them in your crazy life, but not the way you let that sweet, beautiful woman in. The look on your face when you see her! You have same look your your father did when he looked at me! You love her."
"What does this have to do with her, mom?" Bruce replied with the smallest smidge of Batman's suspicion.
"You've been so emotional, sweetie. It's her."
"I told her I'd come over after patrol..."
"Go!"
"Yes mother. Thank you. Rest well."