I wake up in the car. From a quick glance around, I understand this is the batmobile. That makes sense. Burning these pieces of my heart left me unconscious but allowed the smallest breech in Joker's bunker. I guess Supes must have jumped in. Maybe Amy has been so effective as to deactivate the anti-matter shell surrounding the pit. From there, even the Flash could have put us all to safety. But I remember, as I felt the blood run from my nose and ears and my sight become blurry, seeing Bruce run towards me, calling my name. So he must have picked me up. From my injuries, it has been clear enough my brain was not in its healthiest condition so the altitude of the plane was prohibited. Since Damian got there with the car and the rest of the family, earlier, with the plane, Bruce must have told them to fly back to the batcave. And I am stuck in here with him now. Not that, it's sooo bad you know. During these three weeks, we all have shared a lot of intimacy. Against our own will, yes, but still. That did bring us together in the end. At least, I worked hard for that. When I fought over the drugs the Joker administered me to get me in the pit, it became quickly obvious the ambiance was less than cheerful. I hate when people fight. Not that I avoid fights. No, I'm good at arguments, he he, the thrill of having the last word. No but these powerful people, stuck in a powerless state, in a confined place... You should have seen the miserable look on Cyborg's face. Well, I've been able to lift everyone's spirit I hope. In the end, we were chatting and laughing. I thought that would outrage the Joker but, it didn't. And that's around that time I understood something was off. When he addressed me for the eighth time, I asked Batman if he ever addressed them before I was thrown in there. He said no. So I understood it had to do with me. Three weeks. The whole world at hand because all the super heroes were locked here. Just for me. Jack, you shouldn't have gone to that extent. Seriously man, you're insane. Ah ah. You are. And you wanted me to become as well. To join you. You didn't want me to join you because I was compelled to do so, by one of your crazy schemes. No, you wanted me to go insane. I must admit, if I had, I would probably have sided with you in the end. I guess. It would have made sense. In a crazy frame of reference. But you see, dear clown, I can't. I wished I could, so many times. It would have freed me from much pain. But my brain. It always made sure I would stay sane. Always made sure I would not lose that grip. And I didn't expect to convince you Jack. You're too crazy to be reasoned with. But these projections of my soul, they grew very strong with the time. And they were the end of you.

Gosh, I've been looking out this window for an eternity. It's funny. I know this car is fast of the fastest but, when you're inside, you feel so secure, like in a train. And it doesn't seem to go so fast after all. Damn. Bruce has looked my way. I heard him turn his head. Dammit dammit dammit. I really don't want to talk now. Oh and I'm so tired. I can feel my brood. Dude, seriously, I work so hard at showing my best smiling face all the time. Now it's like all my muscles are blurp. I can't hold my features up for Christ's sake. I don't want him to see me this way. Please, just don't look at me. And PLEASE don't start talking. Don't ask questions. Not now.

SCREEEEEEEEE

Why did he brake? Of course, I turned my head. That was so sudden. Took me aback. What's that? He's... No! Can it be tears welling up in Bruce Wayne's eyes? Is that really the guy who chose Batman over me, strength over despair, brood over tears? Surprising as it is, I cannot stand to see him like that. I mean, we grew up together for God's sake! He's my brother. At least, legally. And these days, with Dick comforting and cheering me up and all, I feel more inclined to, say, not think about what he's put me through. I'm far from forgiving, obviously. But... Damn, I want to reach out. He's gritting his teeth. Is he angry or sad? I can't tell. Why can't I tell? Shit, Esme, stop thinking too much! Spare your brain, it's been through a lot just now.

I reach out my hand and lay it on his forearm.

- "Bruce?", he grits his teeth harder, I get quite worried by now, "Bruce, are you OK?"

He darts like a jack-in-the-box (ironically). And sure enough, he locks my mouth to his, his strong hand on the back of my head. I. Didn't. See. That. Coming. Like, from nowhere! What the hell he thinks he's doing? Esme, you just asked your brain to shut down. Gosh, is that really his tongue there? Man, we've not brushed our teeth for, like, three weeks. Why am I thinking about that now? I want this. No. I wanted this for so long. Now it's... too late. Bruce, it's too late. Get off me!

And he does. Slowly. And I can't help thinking it was too short. He lowers his eyes. Oh, don't think you'll get away with it. I slap his perfect jaw. Bam! Who do you think I am? You played with me Bruce. That seeing me near death brought your feelings back is all very good. But your timing is shit.

We stare at each other for some long minutes. He doesn't look surprised. I guess he half expected my reaction. He probably hoped for none at all but, I'm Irish you know. Whatever. I don't care what he's mulling over. He's always mulling over. Damn your brain. Damn mine. Just hit the road already! I want to be far from now.

That's just what he does.

The bonnet is half open over our head that I'm already jumping out of that damn car. I am glad to see everybody is safely waiting for us in the batcave. Dick, Damian, Tim and... Alfred. Oh that's the face that makes me feel securely home. Even see smiles as I scan around. Warms my heart. But I'm thinking about one thing and one thing only. I stride towards my boyfriend and grab his head to take it down to my lips. Three weeks. Being together in that pit for three weeks, having to pretend we didn't know each other because he donned that bloody Nightwing mask. Fuck, that has been hard! And I'm weighing my words. Not like the guy's scalding hot, you know. I mean. Have you met him? You probably haven't though. Well, he's... one of a kind. Rock-built, handsome features, angelic face, melting kindest smile. And I couldn't as much as touch him there. So now I'm unleashing all hell of passion. This and... OK, that's not right but... Bruce is watching. And I want to remind him that he shouldn't have done what he did on the way here. I'm not single godammit! So I hold my breath -that I know fetid- and I frenchkiss that motherfucker like there's no tomorrow. I hardly hear Alfred sending the kids away, claiming the need of an urgent shower session, and feel Dick's arms embracing me back. I second our kiss, now intertwining my fingers in his thick hair. And by the time we part, I want just another thing.

- "Should we have that shower too then? I know a way to make our use of the bathroom twice as effective." I did purr that one out, with a taunting gaze that left no place for misinterpretation. I feel Alfred's amusement but Bruce breaks everything, as he often does.

- "Not just now.", he orders. I give him the quizzical stare. Not the 'what are you talking about' sort of quizzical. The 'are you seriously messing with me dude' sort of quizzical. "You have to give us an explanation of what happened in that pit.", he adds.

I just gape now. I really can't process what he is asking of me.

- "Everybody is out and sound. I think you should just be grateful of that for now.", I hear myself respond. I grab Dick's wrist and start pulling him towards the metallic staircase leading up to the manor. I feel a moment of resistance. I can guess he is shrugging at Bruce. Why does he give him so much importance? If he knew... But he soon gives up. I hear the stirring and as I lay my hand upon the hand rail, Bruce's one is on it. Not in a nice or compassionate way but in a drastically requiring way. He squeezes it and starts dragging me back to the cave floor. In the wheeling movement, I unsheathe one hell of a punch and thrust it right in his teeth, thus letting go of Dick's hand. He is asking too much of me. And my whole body goes into an adrenaline rush. I am exhausted, I am psychologically on-the-edge and, most of all, I am emotionally borderline.

- "You want a third one today Bruce?", I scream at the top of my lungs, the sardony bouncing off the walls around us.

- "What is wrong with you?", he shouts back, genuinely incredulous.

I take half a minute to pant it out, but my thoughts are not getting in order.

- "You have no idea what I sacrificed today. No fucking idea!", I thought I had screamed my previous sentence. But this one is some decibels louder.

And suddenly, all seems blurry. Water is coming to my eyes. It's hitting me. The realization is dropping like my fist dropped on Bruce's cheek. I frantically look around, passing over Dick's and Alfred's startled faces. Peer in the dark corners, gaze in the light of the computer screens, my eyes not able to focus on anything. Because there is nothing to focus on. I come back to Alfred's stare but all I can make out of it is some fuzzy contours.

- "Alfred, they're gone.", I'm past recognizing his concern or grief or sadness or whatever. "They're gone, they're all gone.", I repeat, "I can't see them anymore."

My knees are letting go of me. But alfred comes closer. And I hear his whisper.

- "I know miss Esmeralda. I know."

And he hugs me. I didn't known I needed his hug so bad until he is actually supporting me from falling to the ground. I burry my head in his shoulder and finally, finally, let myself cry out. And I mean, I cry. Like a baby. I am nothing but sobs and snots. I am making that ridiculous loud noise when I'm trying to catch my breath between the spasms. His dirty shirt is now the temple of my sorrow. I'm talking mucus. That reminds me, in the void that is now inhabiting my brain, of that time we fell in that cave. A lifetime ago. Two lifetimes ago. Right after the funerals of Mom and Dad. Bruce had fled and was dashing through the trees. I followed him easily, obviously. Wolf training. But the wooden boards snapped under his feet and my velocity was such I couldn't hold to anything. We fell down the well. Hard on our face. I grabbed him, my big brother, my selflessness. And he started crying out. Just as I am doing now. And I joined him. I think they were my first ever tears. He didn't really notice since he was indulging himself into mourning then. But that cry, now I am understanding. It was the redemption cry. The cry of the end of the world. When you have nothing else, no other solution but to let go of the virtual barricade you've built.

I was slowly stepping up my game but Dick decided to stroke my hair. To let me know he's here too I guess. And that doubles the sobbing. But the worst is when I feel Bruce's pat on my shoulder. Man! Triple sob! Score! If Alfred's shirt was good for garbage a while ago, I think it should now be burnt. But you know what? In that madness, in that terrible and profound despair, I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Yes because these three men, if nothing else, are my world. I have fooled myself with these ghosts, with the past. Ever looking back. But they are pointing forward. And I finally am looking in that direction too. Who am I to be pitied? Batman, Nightwing and Alfred Pennyworth, please, watching and caring for me? No. If I ever needed these ghosts, I don't anymore. And everything is going to be okay.

I push my face out of their hug as the convulsions recede. Look up. See Richard's smile right behind Alfred's. Can't help but faintly smile back. Bruce's hand is still on my shoulder as he says:

- "Go have your shower, we'll talk after."

And I realize what it costs him. That man is certainly full of empathy but he is dry of forgiveness. And one thing he would not forgive, above all, is weakness. And he has known me as his inspiration in that matter. I mean, he went and trained because he felt lesser than me for God's sake. He became Batman because I showed more toughness than he ever had. And in a matter of a few hours, he saw me shattering in a thousand pieces. At the bottom of that pit first and now here, comprehending I will not be able to lean on disillusions to handle my everyday pains anymore. And he deliberately lets me... rest? Do you understand? He lets go, a tiny bit, of his coldness and gives me the authorization to gather myself, thus postponing his investigation. In that instant, I am really seeing the difference. He has changed. I wouldn't say he has softened. God forbids. But he's stretching a hand out to me. And you know what? I take it gladly.

- "Thank you.", I mutter as Alfred lets me regain use of my legs and Dick holds his arm out for me to lean on to get up the stairs. I don't turn to look at him. I know he's already walking back to his console. But that bond I had thought severed, forever, there in that instant, it appears to me it had never been broken.