Ability to Cope
A story by Andrew DiNanno
Somewhere out in the infinite number of possible parallel universes that might exist is a Gotham where it is believed Batman died flying a nuclear weapon away from the city, where Bruce Wayne was believed dead but in reality ran off to some foreign country with Selina Kyle and lived a happy, quiet life with her but this is not that universe. In this universe, I, Bruce Wayne, at fifty-five years old, sit in a dark, empty Wayne Manor, just staring off in to space wondering why I didn't listen to now dearly departed Alfred Pennyworth and leave Gotham never to return because there was nothing here for me but pain. Then I see the Bat-Signal shine in the night sky over Gotham. My heart starts racing as I take the elevator down to the Batcave. My "why didn't I" thoughts slowing vanishing from my mind.
As I start suiting up I think about why I DID stay in Gotham, it was because pain wasn't the only thing here for me. As I don the cowl over my head I remember that the other thing here for me in Gotham City was my ability to cope. The only way I can cope with the pain of seeing my parents murdered before my eyes is by ensuring that criminals like Joe Chill are scared, scared to come out at night and wreck peoples lives with their evil ways. To make sure that pain like mine doesn't exist in this city. As I mount the Batpod and start up its engine I come to the conclusion I come to every night I prepare to go out and fight crime. The reason I stayed in Gotham City is because the only way I can cope with my pain is by being Batman.