I do not own any of the characters, and do not make any profit from them. Please don't sue, I have nothing.
Description. Batman
By In Articulo Mortis
He Couldn't see the stars.
The sky was completely black, a thick cloud layer covered Gotham like a blanket. It was suffocating. Standing out on the balcony, looking out at his city, the place and the people he had sworn to protect, he felt as icy as the winter wind. He was frost bitten. Cold on the inside.
Bruce Wayne had almost completely disappeared in the past few years, even in sleep, when and if it came, it was the Batman in the bed. The brooding, dark knight wasn't left in the Bat Cave any longer, the pain was too much to bare as Bruce, and fear let the Bat take over.
In loosing Dick, Bruce was also lost.
It was that sort of utter despair that makes you want to give it all up and just cease to exist. When your intestines are being tied in thousands of knots and ripped apart. It was the sort of emotional pain that so immense that the body feels it physically. Literally the heart was breaking. It was guilt, and loneliness and something more.. It was suicide and Bruce was dead. But Batman was still around, that unfeeling icy bastard that doesn't give up, even when one half of him is dead, he drags the corps around with him. Through the streets of Gotham in the dark, justice for everyone except himself.
Bruce would appear now and then, testing the body he had given up. In the shower, relaxed a moment then realise that the wound had not healed in his absence and the water would then burn like acid and it was the soap in his eyes that made them water and the steam that made him chock and the slippery tiles that made him sink to the ground.
Too long had gone past since the split of The Dark Knight and his Robin. When Dick left and when Bruce didn't stop him.
Gripping the wrought iron surround for the strength to stay on his feat, the old paint work peeling, its many layers making it hard and sharp and it was just another pain that he wasn't feeling as it dug into his fleshy palms, his grate hoods over his eyes closed and a shaky sigh was released. Did I say that batman couldn't feel? What I meant was that he was better at locking it away, denying it. He felt it on nights like this when it was quiet and dark and when the freezing wind felt warm against his conscience.
Thank you, hope you enjoyed it.