"I'm not running from. No, I think you got me all wrong. I don't regret this life I chose for me."

Apr 13, 2010 20:00

It's cool outside. The air on his face is welcome, and it cannot reach any other part of him. His eyes sting, and it's only determination and an ever-present anger that keeps them open and focused. The anger's origin is simple enough, even if the outlet for it is not.

A year has dragged by, filled with nothing but ignored days and nights that never really end. It's been a year since he lost what kept him from fully giving himself to the mask. A year since he fully embraced what he was meant to become, and now the shadows are everywhere.

There's a puzzle he has yet to solve, and it's the most important puzzle he's ever worked on. It's been eluding him, and he's frustrated and stretched too thin. He's alone.

In the darkness, the shadows are everywhere. There is no need to search them out. It's simplicity to crouch down, watchful and waiting for the men across the street to make their move. When they do, his own motions are sharp and graceful. They're pronounced and totally at ease.

Jumping off the roof is something he does without thought. He knows precisely when and how to jump, and he knows exactly how he'll land. He knows the name of the bastard whose car it is he'll be destroying, and the shock of the city shifting before his eyes as he falls doesn't stop the manner of his fall.

He lands as effortlessly as ever and the car shatters beneath him, the roof caving in as the windows explode in a rain of glass. The sound of the grass stumbling along on the concrete reminds him vaguely of a song.

The Batman leaps down from the sunken roof of the car, his feet barely making a noise on the concrete. As a traveler, he recognizes the skyline immediately. What he doesn't recognize is the reasoning for why he is a block away from Grant Park in Chicago, Illinois, as opposed to Gotham.

clark kent, bruce wayne, alfred pennyworth, rachel dawes

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