Three Months Later

Once the cave actually appeared in John's sight, he released a breath of relief. It was only a few more feet and then he was finally inside, parking the Batcycle. Yet, the moment he tried to get out of the vehicle dizziness, exhaustion and pain caught up with him and he stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. The ill-fitted costume he was wearing didn't make the situation any easier. He so wasn't used to wearing Kevlar. Then again, he wasn't exactly Bruce's size. He'd actually contacted Lucius Fox a few months ago and the man had delivered a new suit. The problem was that it was not a resized version of the one the real Batman had used to wear, this costume was significantly different, rather fitting John's taste than Bruce's. Still, John was apprehensive to wear it just yet. He was afraid to show himself in the city as something different than Batman since the man was loved, even worshipped. People trusted him and even the police have finally seemed to come around. To be honest, John was pretty proud of how he'd been carrying on Bruce's legacy so far. The population of Gotham now believed Batman to be something more than just a man, nearly a god, an immortal even. They weren't ready to trust a completely new vigilante. They weren't ready to believe that Batman was, indeed, gone forever. And that was the reason to why John suffered through wearing Batman's suites instead of his own.

There was also another issue that he was even more reluctant to think about. He felt as though he just wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to become a new hero and to wear a completely new outfit. He wasn't ready to tell the world his real name. He'd been intensely training now for three months, but he still didn't have enough experience. Actually, the very first time he'd gotten out there as Batman was the first night he'd spent in the Wayne Manor. He'd gotten beaten up and nearly lost the fight with a fugitive from Blackgate. Eventually, he'd managed to deliver him to the authorities, but it'd been a very shameful experience all the same. He wanted to be good at what he did, he wanted to be just like Bruce, but he still had a long way to go. At first, he'd even been scared that they would notice he wasn't the real Batman since his fighting skills weren't as good and he'd never been to the League of Shadows or studied martial arts abroad. He just lacked all those years of training on him.

John groaned loudly as he nearly lost his balance again while he leaped to the nearest chair and then finally, he just fell into it. Yes, Batman's life wasn't all glory. In fact, it was pain and struggle. It was hardship. There was also no time for rest as Batman couldn't take a vacation day - or for that matter a night to recover. John was full of admiration towards Bruce Wayne for managing this secret identity for so long and for coming back, especially when he hadn't been so young anymore. He still remembered how he'd heard about what had been happening in the sewers and asked Bruce to return as Batman. He hadn't even realized back then what he was truly asking for.

There was still such a long way to go ahead of him, John thought as he managed to stand up again and push through the pain. He reached the first aid kit he kept in one of the closets, then slowly shed the Batman costume and poured some iodine on the wound on his arm. He winced and clenched his teeth as it stung. His leg was sprained just a little and there was nothing he could do about it at the moment so he just took a special ointment and some bandages with him when limping towards the secret passage that led into the piano room - conveniently a part of the manor that belonged only to him.

Once John found himself in his room, he noticed the pile of papers he was to look at along with some mail. He would have to do it another day, he sighed heavily in resignation and got in the shower. After he cleaned himself up and put a compress on his leg, he lay down and was dead to the world.

Batman helps catch another Blackgate fugitive, the front page of the Gotham Times said.

Barbara put the paper down and reached for her steaming cup of coffee.

"Reading about Batman again?" Jim Gordon asked when walking into the kitchen.

His daughter smiled to him warmly. "It's the only exciting news in here." She shrugged in response.

"Good," Jim said and took the chair opposite to her, then reached for the coffee pot. "This city had its share of bad guys and it doesn't need any more."

"Weren't you the one who said to me that it would never end and I should just leave?" she pointed out.

"I did that for you own safety. We have peace now and hopefully it'll last us for a long time, but there'll be another villain. There always is one, just trust me on that."

"How pessimistic of you," Barbara frowned. "One thing bothers me, though. How on earth Batman could've survived that explosion?" she then asked straightforwardly. She was never one to beat around the bush.

"He didn't," Gordon answered just as bluntly.

"But the guy who's out there…" Barbara started.

"It's not that Batman. It's a new guy," Jim said idly.

"Do you know who he is?" his daughter kept on prompting him.

"No, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I don't." Yet, he did know. He wasn't sure, but it couldn't be a coincidence that ever since John Blake had resigned from the police department, the Batman had made his grand comeback. Gordon saw John very rarely those days and once he did, the younger man did not look good. He was always exhausted. He did run the Wayne Foundation, but it couldn't consume so much of his energy and considering the place he was living in now, the conclusion was obvious. Yet Gordon would never betray John. He believed in Batman and he owed everything to whoever was hiding behind the mask. His little boy was safe now and even though his wife had left him, Jim was still grateful. His life had been saved on numerous occasions by the masked vigilante as well and the city as well. What interested Gordon the most now was yet who'd fixed the lamp that sent a signal if Batman was needed. At first he'd thought it was Bruce who miraculously survived and left the city to find peace and happiness somewhere else, his duty paid. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. John could've fixed it as well.

"Dad?" his daughter's voice came to him like through a broken phone line. "Dad, are you even listening to me?" She didn't sound too pleased with him at the moment.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he apologized when shaking his head and looking at her.

"What were you thinking about?" She wanted to know.

"Nothing, just about the good old times."

"She'll come around, you know," Barbara said and reached her hand to touch her father's across the table.

He knew she was referring to his wife - or maybe soon to be ex wife.

"I don't think so. I sacrificed way too much for this city and faking my own death and letting them believe it… it was too much for her. Right after that the Joker tried to murder our son and she couldn't stand the danger anymore. I can't really blame her. At least she lets me see him."

"I'm sorry. I can only guess that my coming here didn't make this whole situation easier for you two," Barbara's voice grew rather melancholic and guilty.

She'd appeared in Gotham as soon as there was a way in. She'd found out that she had a father a few weeks before that and she'd needed to meet him. She'd just gotten her PhD then and received a lot of various propositions for a future career as she was the best at her field of expertise. Eventually, she'd chosen to become the head of the Gotham Library, one of the biggest on the whole continent. Her passion was books and she couldn't wait until she would get to run the library. Now she finally did.

"No, it's fine. You've given me a new purpose. What would I do here all alone and retired without you?" Gordon asked, sending her a small smile. "Now, don't you need to get to work?"

"Yeah, I do, but first I need to run an errand," she said when standing up and gathering her purse along with her coat.

"What kind of an errand?" Gordon asked in curiosity.

"I need to kick someone's ass, that's all." She winked at her father and left his house.

By now, Jim Gordon had kind of gotten used to her saying stuff like that, so it didn't bother him.

It was the fourth time Barbara rang the doorbell when finally, the door opened, showing… no one.

"Who are you?" she then heard a voice that must've belong to a child.

She looked down and saw a boy who looked six, maybe seven years old.

"Hi, I'm Barbara Gordon. It's ok, I'm Jim Gordon's daughter," she said, smiling to the boy.

"Jim Gordon is not a com…" the child stopped, wincing as he was trying to pronounce the word right. "Commi.."

"Commissioner," Barbara helped him. "Yes, he isn't anymore, but he can still be trusted. He helped Batman save Gotham, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" the boy yelled enthusiastically. "I was in the bus that day! Batman flew over the city and then the bomb exploded far away from us! He saved us all!"

Barbara couldn't help but keep smiling fondly at the little boy.

"Could you call John Blake for me?" she finally asked.

"He's still sleeping," the boy just replied to which Barbara elevated her eyebrows.

"Still?" she made sure. "I'll show this son of…" she suddenly stopped, terrified that the boy might hear the bad word she probably wasn't supposed to use in front of him. "What's your name?" she calmed herself down and crouched in front of him.

"Malcolm," the answer came.

"Is there any grown-up in here, Malcolm?" she tried again.

"We have a lot of nannies, but they're all in the garden, playing with the other kids."

"Why aren't you playing with them?"

"I needed to go to the bathroom and when I was coming back, I heard the doorbell," the boy replied resolutely.

"Are you even allowed to open the door?" she asked another question.

Malcolm just shrugged and threw his hands up into the air, making such a funny face that Barbara felt the sudden urge to laugh.

"All right. Let's go, then." She stood up and grasped his hand as she walked inside, the door closing behind them. The entrance hall was enormous. She thought that the orphans must've really liked it there. Every child's dream was to live in a castle and it was an amazing gesture of Bruce Wayne to let them have this manor. Who would think that a man who was thought to be an eccentric and a playboy would do something like this? Barbara guessed that one could never really judge anyone until they got to know them for who they really were and not for whom the papers were creating them to be.

Well, that did not apply to John Blake, obviously. The man gave up his work at the police force for this. At first Barbara thought it was nice of him to manage the Wayne Foundation as John himself had been raised in an orphanage, but now she begun to think that it was just all too convenient for him. He lived in a castle now and slept till late. Men were really all the same.

"I really need to speak with Blake," she turned to the child. "Is there any way you could go over to him and wake him up?" she asked.

"Well, I could, but you have to promise not to tell anyone and make sure John doesn't get mad at me."

Malcolm seemed to be such a sweet kid that she sent him a smile again, all the anger leaving her at instant.

"All right. You've got yourself a deal."

Malcolm smiled back and ran to the left wing of the manor.

Barbara had been pacing around the hall for a good amount of twenty minutes before John Blake finally deigned to appear.

She turned around to face him and saw a very tired man who was just rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"Hi, I'm John Blake," he introduced himself as he reached his hand to her. "Nice to meet you."

"Barbara Gordon," she said in a cold voice and then shook his hand.

"Gordon?" John repeated, frowning. "As Jim Gordon's daughter?" he made sure.

"Yes," she answered curtly, not really in the mood for a conversation with this man. She was way too angry with him at the moment.

"I didn't know he had one," John admitted.

"Well, three months ago he didn't know either," she replied, her lips forming a thin line.

"Sorry, I haven't been around much lately."

"Oh, really?" She raised her eyebrows at him, pretending to be surprised. "Was that before you were partying so hard last night?"

John clearly didn't understand her. "Excuse me?"

"I've been waiting for you for a good part of half an hour. I ring the door and a child answers. I send you mail and you don't reply. What am I supposed to think? You've spoiled yourself, John Blake and apparently, you love living in this house a little bit too much."

"The what again?" He was dumfounded now. "What are you talking about? I wasn't partying last night, I was… busy," he finished lamely when actually scratching his head.

"Oh, I see." She nodded, a knowing expression on her face.

"Oh, no!" he suddenly denied. "No, no, no… it's not what you think… it's just… I've been really busy and…"

"I don't care about what you were or weren't doing!" Barbara raised her voice in outrage. And why did he have to be so damn handsome, she wondered, trying hard not to notice that particular feature. "I just care that you ignored me!"

"I didn't! I'm here!"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't want to make a scene right then and there where the kids could actually hear her cursing.

"Ok, can we just go back and start over?" John suggested. "Please, just explain the mail thing and how I ignored you when I don't even know you."

"Fine," she said harshly. "I'm the head of the Gotham Library. I sent you a letter to invite the children from the Wayne Foundation to come and borrow some books. You never replied. Is that clear enough for you?" she asked in an exasperated voice.

John actually laughed at her explanation and she felt like she could really wipe that smirk off his face.

"Ok, Barbie," he started and was interrupted right away.

"I'm not a fucking Barbie!" she raised her voice and then suddenly stopped, looking around in panic. "Did any of the children hear me? What do you think?"

John was so amused at the moment that he couldn't stop laughing. That woman was infuriating, but she was also beautiful and passionate and he couldn't help but feel an instant attraction to her.

"If you keep it up, they might," he told her.

"It's not funny."

"Actually, it is… What am I supposed to call you? Barbara is too long and too official, unless you really want me to call you miss Gordon, but that just sounds like a spinster."

"You…" Barbara started, rage evident on her face along with the blush, but then she managed to suppress it. "Did you read that damn mail or not?" she asked through clenched teeth. "You know, just because you may hate books and would rather do things that I do not really want to know about, doesn't mean that the kids in here should follow your example! In fact, I think that they need a better role model. You know, my mom was sick throughout my whole childhood and the books I was reading actually helped me get through it." She then stopped talking and they just looked at each other. She suddenly felt awkward, embarrassed even since she could never seem to keep things to herself. Why did she just tell him about her mother anyway? He so didn't need to know that! Only then Barbara was actually surprised to see something on his face that reminded her of compassion and understanding.

"I love books," John answered calmly and honestly. "I just don't have much time for reading right now. I wish I did, really. And I'm sorry about your mother. My parents were shot when I was little and I didn't get to be raised in such a fancy home like this one," he looked around the hall, "Instead I landed up in the state orphanage and when I reached sixteen, I was let go because there was not enough budget to cover my living there."

"Oh," escaped Barbara's lips. She felt stupid. Maybe she had, indeed, judged him too fast. There could be a million ways to explain him not reading his mail and sleeping up till late.

"I joined the force because I wanted to make a difference," he told her. "I wanted to protect the people of Gotham so there wouldn't be more causalities. So a boy could welcome his parents home at night."

"Why did you quit, then?" she asked, suddenly feeling interested in his story.

"It just wasn't the way…" he started, his voice trailing off as he shook his head. "About the mail," he switched the topic quickly. "I haven't read it and I am sorry for that. I'll tell you what, I'll bring the kids to the library, say… Saturday? Is that good for you?" he suggested, surprising her once more.

For a moment there she couldn't find her tongue to speak. She was too busy studying John's expression. She couldn't really decipher this man and it was driving her crazy. Again. He really seemed like a good guy and from what she'd heard from her father, he really was. What was his problem, then?

"That's just fine," she finally gave him an answer.

"Perfect." He smiled to her. "Would you like to stay for breakfast?" he suggested then. "I haven't eaten yet."

"No, thank you. I actually have a job to get to." She just couldn't help but make another remark about him getting up so late.

"As you wish. See you around… Barbie…" he said and disappeared fast enough so she couldn't yell at him again. All she managed to do was to sputter in rage.