This was it. This was the end of Batman, of the Man known as Bruce Wayne. Legendary and to some mythical crime fighter. The Joker escaped Arkam again, always does.
Again he laid his plans, executed in his own surgical way and escaped after the finale. Only this time he unknowingly left his eternal Nemesis and in to his own depraved mind; other half, to die. Crushed under dabree from a stray explosion.
He struggles of course using his near Inhumane strength to lift the slab of concrete from his chest to no avail. Lungs constricted unable to take in air his visions darkens. The sign of oblivion closing in. And yet he fights until he hears a voice. A voice he hasn't heard since childhood. Not since it was stolen from him along with his innocence. It was the voice of his mother.
"Bruce." She called and like a siren singing the sweetest song drove him in. No longer constricted by the fallen ceiling of some abandoned warehouse, no he was standing before his manor Mouth agape at the phantoms before him. His Mother and his Father stood together hand in hand. Basked in brilliant unearthly golden light coming from the open doors of his manor.
" Its over Bruce. You don't have to fight anymore . You've done enough. Please." Her voice cracked as she called to him. And it nearly broke him. Was it happiness at they're reunion, sadness for the fall he suffered? His father? Stood tall, straight. As he should. As he always did. With a smile filled with fathomless pride and love. " Come on son," he called. Voice strong and reassuring , " Its time to come home."
How could he say no? His parents, his mother his father! Stood feet away looking so alive and welcoming. He did the only thing he could and stumbled toward their waiting arms.
He made his way toward them, feeling lighter and….and happier with each step. And finally after what felt like an eternity his mother was nearly within arms reach, a darkness descended upon the reunion, the golden backdrop behind his parents dimmed. From behind him shadows rose threatening to engulf the trio in their entirety. Before he could feel fear or caution a third voice called out to him. One he spent the last 14 months agonizing over. For he would never hear it again.
"Bruce! Hell are doing?" Whatever euphoria Bruce allowed himself to feel was crushed by sadness, surprise and relief. He turned his back to his parents with the speed of a whip or the expert stroke of a rapier. Eyes widening at the sight before him, taking the breath from his lungs, which in some still functional part of his brain noted that was the third time that occurred in one day.
For standing in the suffocating black was something he thought he lost forever. All because he was to slow to save him in time. His ward, his solider, his fault stood back straight and unflinching in the consuming shadow that was eating away everything it touched. "Jas-", he tried. Unable to get the name past his lips. To many emotions were fighting for dominance within his mind. Even if he could speak, the Specter wouldn't have it.
" What are you doing Bruce? Cut the bullshit. We got work to do!" His voice hard, loud but lacking any true anger struck harder than any blow ever could.
"Jason!" He tried again, finally finding his voice his resolve to speak.
Before he could even put a sentence together, a plea or even an apology. His boy already turned his back to him. Yellow cape and all familiar red, green and black armor formed from nothing enveloped him. "You're not done B. We're needed! Now come on let's go!" With his piece said he ran. Straight into the mouth of darkness. Unflinching and unhesitating with not even a backwards glance. He charged forward. His cape a beacon in the dark fading but never disappearing.
And without a backwards glance to his pleading parents and the Brilliant golden light that continued to loose it luster in the ever consuming black. He charged forward chasing after his lost son. His light in the darkness.
He awoke with a gasp. His arms finding renewed life as he lifted the slab that nearly took his life…that did take his life. He crawled forward every movement setting his muscles aflame. Gasping for breath he fell to his hands and knees, forehead pressed to the floor tears escaping the cowl, mixing with the dust and the ashes as he muttered his apologies to unresponsive ghosts. He is Batman. And he never yields, never surrenders and never gives in. He is not done. The mission isn't over. And he will. Forever march to the end. No matter how dark the path gets. . .
The first piece of writing I've ever posted to the internet did it years ago I was thinking about revising it editing it but no I'll probably do that in a separate post if this lil one shot gets any attention maybe even write a sequel
the reason why I brought this lil bad boy back from the dead is because I noticed a pretty large group of people of rising up and rejecting DC's new "Batfam" and Fanon batfam and I want to join the resistance They're butchering these characters and it hurts then the fans go all UwU mmm bat snuggles
PS. I deleted the first draft of this lil shorty after 6 hours of life to repost is with a few edits after I wrote above that I wouldn't do it because I hate myself but I will keep the review it got because of love
karonkgb
"I can see the yellow of Jason's cape folding into the dark" (Don't ban me yo") I got the OG on a tumblr
