The Batcave, silent and dark for so many years, hummed to life. Lights flickered on, illuminating the sprawling cavern in a cascade of brilliant white. The massive computer screens on the main wall sparked and came online, the familiar glow a silent promise of work to come. Batman stood at the controls, his gloved fingers moving with a forgotten, instinctive grace.

He walked over to the Batmobile, a sleek, menacing shadow beneath a thick layer of dust and a tarp. He pulled the cover off with a single motion, the fabric settling on the floor like a dead shroud. The black metal gleamed in the vault’s light.

“I missed you, girl,” he said, his voice a low growl of pure nostalgia. The Batmobile’s engines awoke from their slumber in a low, powerful rumble, a sound that felt less like a machine and more like a purr of approval.

He hit the comm line, a direct channel to the Manor. “Alfred… I’m going out.”

The old butler’s voice came through, filled with a quiet, knowing pride. “Very good, sir. Do be careful.”

And then, just as the line went silent, two smaller voices came through, a soft, staticky unison that was all the world to him.

“Go get ‘em, Dad!”

He smiled.

The silence of the cave was shattered as the Batmobile shot out of the cave’s secret exit, a black blur disappearing into the darkness of the Gotham night. The wind screamed around the enclosed canopy, a sound he hadn’t heard in years.

He hit the comm, a private channel he hadn’t used in three years. “Oracle, are you there?”

A moment of static, and then a familiar, calm voice, tinged with a note of stunned relief, responded. “Always, Batman. It’s… it’s good to hear from you.”

“It’s good to be back,” he said, the words feeling foreign and freeing at the same time. “Tell the others thank you.”

With his network re-established and his gratitude quietly conveyed, his thoughts turned to Jim Gordon. His friend. His first stop had to be him.

He hit the comm line again, his voice a low gravel. “Jim… we need to talk. You know the place.”

***

Jim Gordon was shocked to hear Batman’s call after years of silence. The fury and betrayal he had felt three years ago had faded into a weary resignation, but the sound of that voice was a jolt to his system. He made a quiet excuse and, without a word to anyone, made his way to the rooftop of Gotham PD.

He was there waiting, a solitary figure in the cool night air, the iconic gargoyles watching over him. The wind whipped at his trench coat as a black shadow landed softly behind him.

A low, guttural voice broke the silence on the rooftop. “Jim.”

Gordon, despite years of working with the Caped Crusader, still jumped, his hand instinctively going to his hip. Batman’s arrival was always an exercise in the unsettling. He turned, and in the dim light, saw the familiar silhouette.

Batman, without a word, reached up and removed his cowl. The dark, intimidating mask gave way to the tired, haunted face of Bruce Wayne. “Jim, I owe you a long, overdue explanation.”

Gordon simply nodded, his eyes scanning Bruce’s face, noting the lines of grief and weariness that time had etched there. There was no shock, not anymore. The night Hailey died, the night he held a crying Richard and heard Dr. Gaines call him “Bruce,” the truth had slammed into him. The betrayal had burned, but with the passage of years, with the silence and the clear signs of deep, unassailable grief that had emanated even from the reclusive billionaire, the anger had subsided into a profound sadness.

“I’m listening, Bruce,” Gordon said, his voice softer than Bruce expected. He leaned against the concrete barrier, crossing his arms. The years had given him time to process, to reflect on the chaos of that night, and to connect the dots he had deliberately ignored for too long.

Bruce took a deep breath, the cold night air filling his lungs. “I’m sorry, Jim. For all of it. For dropping out of sight for these past three years, for shutting you out. You deserved better from a friend.” He looked away, then back at Gordon, his gaze pleading for understanding. “It started with Hailey… Harley. Harleen Quinzel.”

He recounted the story, not just the facts, but the agonizing details. The desperation in Harley’s eyes when she reached out to Bruce Wayne, not Batman. The impossible choice he’d felt he had to make. He spoke of the woman he fell in love with, the life they built, the children they had. He didn’t hide the ugliness of Harley Quinn’s past, nor did he shy away from the pain of Hailey’s vulnerability, painting a picture of a woman who was both a criminal and a victim.

“She was trying to change, Jim. She was trying to be Hailey. And for a while, she was. She was the best of us,” Bruce’s voice was raw with pain. “I believed I could give her a life away from all of this. A normal life. It was a mistake. My mistake. And it cost her everything.”

Bruce paused, the weight of his guilt heavy in the air. He braced himself and delivered the part that still haunted him. “I’m sorry about the Joker. I never meant to take it that far. It was blind rage, and I crossed a line. There’s no excuse for putting him in Arkham in the condition he’s in.”

Gordon didn’t flinch. He let out a long, weary sigh and pushed off the barrier. “Bruce, I got the reports. I know he’s bed ridden, being fed through a tube. It’s a tragedy you had to do that. Anyone would have done that in your situation. But look,” Gordon’s gaze was hard, but not judgmental. “That man was never going to stop. He broke you and your family. He broke her. Now he won’t be hurting anyone else. I’m okay with that.”

He placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, a gesture of weary acceptance.

“You loved her. That’s not a mistake.” His gaze returned to Bruce, firm and direct. “You were right, she was a criminal. But she was also a victim. And she died trying to protect your kids.”

Gordon squeezed Bruce’s shoulder.

“I won’t pretend the betrayal didn’t cut deep. But I forgave you a long time ago. I still trust you.” He dropped his hand from Bruce’s shoulder, taking a step back. “Just one more thing, old friend. If you’re really back… if there’s a next time… just keep me in the loop.” A small, weary smile touched his face. “Are you ready to be the Batman again?”

Bruce didn’t hesitate. He looked out at the city, a city that had been living in his shadow, and the words came from a place deep inside him as he re-donned the cowl.

“That’s why I’m here.”

Gordon looked out at the city lights. “It’s really peaceful and beautiful from up here, isn’t it?”

There was no answer. When he looked around, the space where Batman had been was empty. He was gone.

Gordon just shook his head and chuckled. “Go get ‘em, Bruce.”

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