Not Alone || Batman: Arkham Knight

Chapter Five

Batman stood atop a tall building, looking out over the city. It had been two months since that night. The night everything had changed.

Robin and Nightwing stood further behind him, conversing in hushed tones.

"How long has he been standing there?" Nightwing asked, having just arrived.

"Over an hour now," replied Robin.

Bruce hadn't been himself since that night. He didn't wake up until a week after the surgery. The doctors had feared that he would never wake up after losing so much blood and going so long without any oxygen to his brain. They had said that it was a miraculous recovery. Alfred had been beside himself when he had found out what had happened. Then ecstatic when Bruce had finally awoken. He had hardly left his side since.

For a month, Bruce didn't leave Wayne Manor. Robin might have blamed it on the doctors since they had ordered Bruce to bed rest. But Bruce had never followed their orders before. The only time he had left the walls of the house was to attend Jason's funeral, which Bruce insisted they have on the grounds itself. Bruce didn't say a word to anyone for a week after that.

Unaware of the anguish of its Dark Knight, Gotham had continued on following Scarecrow's demise. The city had repopulated once everyone had learned the threat had passed. Nightwing had stayed behind to assist Robin in rounding up the remaining criminals involved in Scarecrow's plans. He had even donned the Batsuit on occasion to keep Gotham's crime at bay. It wouldn't do for the criminals to realize that Batman was indisposed. He had kept a low profile while he had masqueraded as Batman. At least, as low of a profile as anyone can keep while running around dressed as a bat. He hadn't wanted to get close enough to anyone for them to realize it wasn't the real Batman. It wasn't necessarily Batman's skills that sent the criminals running. It was his myth. A few glimpses of someone in the Batsuit patrolling Gotham were enough to keep that myth alive.

Gordon knew, of course. Robin had told him what had happened with Scarecrow and the Arkham Knight. And with Batman afterwards. Gordon hadn't told anyone, not even his own men. He knew as well as Robin how important the symbol of the Batman was.

Gradually, Bruce had opened back up to the world around him. Robin would find him in the Batcave more and more often, though he was still wheelchair-bound on account of his leg. Bruce would inform Robin of some crime that he wanted him to look into and Robin would go out into Gotham, acting on his orders, gathering intel, catching the criminals. When he would return, the process would start over again. It wasn't much, but at least Bruce was talking again.

They only spoke of Jason once, on the night of his funeral. Bruce had explained to them what had occurred that night. They had been so shocked by the story that they hadn't even known what to say. Condolences had seemed too meaningless to offer. He had simply told them his story then rolled himself from the room, refusing even Alfred's help, leaving them glancing at each other in the solemn silence that had followed. Robin had been too afraid that Bruce would shut them out again to bring Jason up after that.

Tonight was the first time Bruce had donned the cowl since that night. The doctors weren't happy about it. They, at least, were content that Bruce had hung up his cape for a few months.

Lucius had prepared a suit that would support Bruce's leg once he had learned that Bruce had awoken. He had figured Bruce wouldn't follow the doctors' orders to rest. He'd been shocked when Robin had told him that Bruce had no use for the new suit for the time being. That he spent most of his days locked away in his room.

But tonight Bruce had grabbed the new suit out of its case, telling Robin and Nightwing that they needed to meet. At the sound of Nightwing's voice, he turned and faced them.