LI
The Stranger

Bruce Wayne had ascended the stairs and was racing towards the master bedroom when the numbness hit him. The strange juxtaposition of memories and emotion that had started downstairs could only have been coming from Raven. She needed him… and he was becoming paralyzed with apathy.

"This will pass," spoke a man's voice in front of him.

As he struggled to lift his head upwards, he saw before him a man shrouded in mystery. He wore a black suit, a white turtleneck with a gold, arcane medallion hung around his neck. The fedora wasn't uncommon, but the large blue cloak and white stage gloves that completed the stranger's wardrobe certainly was. Did Alfred have a magician in his family? He was sure he had mentioned his uncle had been a stage actor…

"Heed my words, Bruce Wayne. You must cast aside your anger and forgive. The fate of the world is precariously balanced, do not tip the scales in the favor of evil. Resist!"

"…Who… are you?" It was all he could do to ask as the feeling drained from him, replaced by emptiness.

"A lonely man who atones for his sins. Do not follow in my path, Bruce Wayne. Judgment is not ours to dispense. Forgive and ask of forgiveness for yourself."

And then… through the stranger, he saw the terrible shape. It was primeval hatred born on wings of brimstone. Its mouth was blackened obsidian backlit by the fires of Hell. An ungodly shriek filled the hallway as it located its mortal prey…

The stranger vanished as the demon-bat blasted through him, dissolved by a bat-god. Bruce marveled at its intensity, its power. His fear lifted as he managed to raise himself from the floor. It did not stop. This monster of smoke and fire hit him directly in the chest as ash and soot exploded around him. Bruce braced himself, and then…

There was no pain.

It had burned a hole through his shirt, exposing his chest. Otherwise, he was unharmed…

…Until he knew what the demon had been. His pain, his trauma, his hatred… all that he had discarded over the past year now bombarded his very essence. His frustration, his lust, his need for revenge erupted in a scream that filled Wayne Manor. He wanted to put his fist through the walls, to make his wife bend to his will, to destroy.

"Master Wayne, are you alright?" Alfred Pennyworth had entered the hallway to find his charge, most of his shirt burnt off, raging against the air.

"No, Alfred. I'm not. Is she awake?"

"Yes, sir. She has just opened her eyes."

"Good, I'm going to need some time alone."

"I will prepare a meal and tea for Mrs. Wayne." Alfred did not like the look in his master's eye. It looked like… madness.

"You do that."

As Bruce entered the bedroom, he saw Arella covering his horizontal wife in a blanket. He had been blessed not to have an interfering mother-in-law for the first year but now the streak was over. Not that there had been much to interfere with. Before he could begin, it was Raven who spoke first, softly.

"Mother. I need to be alone with Bruce right now." Arella wanted to protest, but there was something in Raven's gaze that pushed her away. Begrudgingly, Arella left the room. Bruce closed the door.

"I am sorry, my love. Your burden… it could not be contained." Raven patted the bed beside her, inviting her husband to sit beside her. He remained standing.

"Take it from me, Raven! I can't control it." Bruce was shaking with strain to resist urges he had fought for far too long. Sweat beaded on his brow. It would bring down his sanity.

"I can not. It had forbid me to do so. I can only share your pain through my tears and my heart's sadness. I can not take it from you any longer as an empath. It was never right, my love."

"Never right?.." His rage blossomed and seized the reins of reason. "You know what's not right?! THIS MARRIAGE! You're like a goddamned pusher, you know that? You got me hooked. A whole damned year, controlling me with those little emotional fixes of yours! I was your puppet in a little girl's fairy tale."

The tears swelled from indigo eyes as Raven openly sobbed. "… I am… so…s…sorry my husband…it was never…r…right…"

"Don't you dare call me that again! You have no right anymore. I'm tired of carrying you and your damned burden. For what?! God knows, Dick tried to warn me… Tried to talk some sense into me. And do you know where that got him?! There may bits of his atoms floating by in this room right now." Bruce took a deep breath. These were the first tears he had allowed himself to shed for Dick. She had probably taken those too.

"He was my son, Raven… And I chose YOU over him! God forgive me, I chose a sniveling witch over my only son…"

"Bruce… I love you. I always have…"

"Little girl, you don't even know what love is… Stay in bed! Cry! I've got a funeral to hold. Since no one else in the entire world will acknowledge him, I'll make damned sure Dick is never forgotten and give him the peace, the honor, he deserves… You're not invited."

As he gripped the door to leave the room, he turned back to the pale, dark-haired shape on the bed and grinned, letting his new-found hatred push the knife a little deeper…

"And then after all that, the grieving father can console himself in Barbara Gordon and finally do what he's been aching to do with her for years now… feel free to tune your precious empath dial in, so you can get a sense of what husband-and-wife is really like…"

SLAM!

The thing inside her began to crawl its way up into her mind as the anger in her heart opened the way.

Let us show this man who we really are…

Author's Note:

This was a tough one to write. The words came easily enough but it was emotionally tough. When you care for the characters, it's hard to put them through that. The title "The Stranger" not only refers to the Phantom Stranger (who makes an appearance), but also the man Bruce Wayne has become after his negative emotions come home to roost.

P.S. Raven doesn't take this lying down.