Author's note: Once again, these characters do not belong to me. DC isn't using them, though, so somebody has to! :)
For Michelle
The figure on the ledge turned, giving Jean Paul and Azrael a much better look at him. His armor was mostly black, with just a hint of the Azrael gold in the gauntlets and shoulders. A dark gold bat was emblazoned upon his sternum, leading right up to a blood red visor set into his mask. A shiver went down Jean Paul's spine as he remembered this night.
Just as he remembered it, the Bat-figure in front of him walked to the center of the roof, turned, and ran full speed towards the edge. He launched himself into the night, pursuing he whose mantle Jean Paul had usurped.
As if on cue, the scene shifted to a dank, dark natural corridor leading out of the Batcave. Bruce Wayne, also known as the Batman, stood over the fallen form of Jean Paul's Batman. A bright light cascaded down upon them both, from behind Wayne, and slightly above them.
"Why are you showing me this, Azrael?" He asked, the humility in his voice quite apparent.
"To remind you, mortal, that your lot in life had already been chosen nearly 400 years ago."
"But why is that? Why couldn't I make my time as Batman work?"
"Your time as Batman could not work because the System that was implanted in you took over. The guilt that the Order built into your mind worked a strange alchemy on your mental facilities, and perverted that which you attempted to build."
"But that's no answer at all! What you're saying is that this," he pointed to the figure barely dressed in the black Bat suit, "This wasn't even ME?"
"That would be correct. This Batman being that you became was neither you nor I, but strictly the System that the Order invented. It took Bruce Wayne's noble calling and perverted it completely, much as the Order itself became a perversion of Dumas' original."
Jean Paul took the time to think about this. He wondered if the guilt he still felt was simply the lingering hold that The System had over him, or if he honestly felt bad for what he did in his time as Batman. Knowing that it wasn't truly HIM helped somewhat, but there was still the feeling that he should have been able to control it.
"You should feel remorse for your actions. You took an oath, to uphold his mantle, to use his methods, and to, most of all, NOT KILL. Yet, you allowed Abattoir to fall to his death!"
Jean Paul withered under Azrael's mighty gaze, much as he did that day in the field with Wayne. The similarity struck him for a moment, but was suddenly gone when Azrael continued.
"However, this was as much my fault as it was yours." The figure of Azrael shrank somewhat, and his inner light dimmed somewhat. "For had I not given up on your forefathers, had I managed to maintain my intimate contact with them, the Order never would have been able to fall as far as it has..."
As Azrael trailed off, Jean Paul realized something very important. This figure, be it Angel or simply another part of himself, or both, was just as sad, angry, and remorseful as he was. Angel or fractured personality, this being was just as messed up as he was!
"Azrael, neither of us can take the blame for decisions made by others. The Gray Abbott once told me that Angels were less than human, and merely slaves. If this view were widely held in the order, knowing that you were real wouldn't change their minds about what they were doing."
"I know what you are saying is true, Jean Paul, but that does not make my guilt lessen."
Jean Paul smiled wryly, "Then we share more than simply a body, Azrael."
The two stood there for a long moment, as the Batcave faded away. They stood once more in a perfectly white world, surrounded by nothingness and light, all at the same time.
"So where do we go from here, now that I know you're with me?"
"That is up to you, mortal. I am awake now, but you are not. It would be a simple thing to retreat into your subconscious again, and leave you to your own fate."
Jean Paul didn't even consider the possibility. "No, you must stay with me. All of this will make more sense if I have someone to talk to who truly understands..."
"Realize this, mortal. If you choose to keep me in my awakened state, I will be with you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and no one else will ever truly hear my voice but you. Many will think you schizophrenic, and attempt to incarcerate you."
"Half the people who know me already think I'm nuts, thanks to my time in the Bat suit. All I ask of you is that you don't comment on every single thing I do. And get lost if I ever happen to find myself in an intimate situation with a woman."
Azrael chuckled mightily at this last suggestion. "Are you certain? I have been bonded to vigorous human males for four centuries, I may be able to suggest..."
"Absolutely not!"
"If that is your wish, then I shall endeavor to follow the rules you set. However, I will still be present, as you and I will never truly be separate until your death."
Jean Paul paused for a moment, and truly considered the implications. Finally, he spoke but one simple phrase - "Let it be so."
"Brian! I think he's coming out of it!" Lilhy cried as she came running out of Jean Paul's room.
"He's stirring?" Brian asked, as he rushed to rise from his chair.
Lilhy stopped in front of him, nearly out of breath. "Stirring is not quite the word for it. He rose up out of bed, grabbed his Azrael garb, and started getting dressed in it!"
Brian ran into the room, where he was met by the sight of Jean Paul's face in Azrael's garb.
"Just where do you think you're going, young man?" He asked sternly.
Jean Paul just smiled at him. "I need to get out and clear my head. Don't worry, 'Dad', I'll be back before dawn."
Jean Paul placed Azrael's helmet over his head, and walked by Brian and out into the night.
"How did he know what time it was, anyway?" Lilhy asked from the hallway behind Brian.
"I suppose he looked at the clock next to his bed, Lilhy."
"Oh..."