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Veils of Night	By : FireCracker Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 1170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is for entertainment purposes only, no profit is made. All listed characters are licensed property of dc comics. No claims are made on any version of Batman fandom.

Chapter List
- 1-Veils of Night
- 1
submission dated 3/24/10
author: FireCracker
Archive? You'd better.
Warnings: An Elseworlds spin on R.I.P. and the Wayne lineage. This story is for entertainment only, no profit is made.

Pairing: None

Bruce has returned from the Omega Sanction, changed. He's become withdrawn from family and friends, his demeanor distant. A terrible secret he hasn't revealed weighs heavily on his mind. He and Alfred have a talk in the batcave.

VEILS OF NIGHT

Dick, Tim and Alfred congregated in the kitchen to discuss the future. The last few weeks had been relatively quiet, but many challenges were on the horizon. Wayne Enterprises was in a state of chaos thanks to Hush and his machinations as an imposter. Strange internationals had infiltrated Gotham with new waves of growing crime.
Discoveries found beneath the foundation of Wayne Manor were amazing and
frightening in their implication. And then there was Bruce and his odd behavior...

Dick sighed, poking at his plate of eggs. "I'm worried, to be honest. Bruce is changed, and not for the better."

"I know what you mean." Tim sipped his juice. "He's almost stuck between Bruce Wayne and the Bat. It's weird, like he can’t figure out a default personality."

"But what is the question, Tim. We were all so glad when he returned, but his reaction was strange. Almost as if he were tainted or something and didn't want it to spread."

Alfred was thoughtful. "There is much we still don't know about the Sanction. What happened, what did he experience?"

"And more importantly, how does it affect the here and now?" Tim wondered. "I still don't know where this leaves us all."

"What are you talking about?" Dick stared.

"He means the status of Robin." a familiar voice responded. Damian stepped lightly into the kitchen.

"Ah. Eating again, I see."

"I wasn't just talking about that." Tim snapped. "As usual, you jump to the wrong conclusion."

"As usual, you lie as a cover."

"That's enough." Dick ordered. "Silly squabbling isn't going to help Bruce."

Damian sat at the table with a flourish, placing his cloak neatly over the chair. "I tried talking to him."

"Any success?" Alfred was curious, stirring his coffee.

The boy appeared confused. "I...don't know. He kept touching my hair and asked if mother did that for me. I didn't know what to say."

"He needs a connection right now." Alfred answered. "Something, anything to ground himself. He's gone through a tumultuous experience."

"Then why not share it? We could help with the burden." Tim worried again.

Dick shook his head. "You know Bruce isn't talkative when he's in a mood." a pause. "But I'm growing concerned with his withdrawal. It isn't natural, even for him."

"But it's been days!" Damian blurted, stabbing his food. "I say we've waited long enough. Father won't speak he won't look at anyone..."

"Strange." Dick mused.

"What does that mean, Grayson? If you-"

"Stop talking for a minute, and I'll tell you. My understanding is that he did speak with someone."

"Who?" Tim wanted to know.

"Jason. I would have thought he'd go visit the JLA, but instead he goes to GC Jail."

"Man, Bruce is all over the place. That's weird."

"I know."

"What?" Damian huffed. "Father spoke with that psychopath, instead of his own family?"

"Jason is family." Tim snapped again.

"No he isn't." Damian insisted. "I'm his true son, and-"

"You're no more real than anyone else here." Dick responded evenly. "You have no idea how Bruce was affected by his death."

"We all move on."

"That's the point, he didn't. Or couldn't."

Damian was curious despite his anger. "But what happened?"

Dick finished his mouthful of bacon and sat back. "Jason was rebellious, but had something of a noble streak when he was a kid. But he was also angry and violent. Bruce took him in, hoping to channel that energy into something productive. He had mixed results."

"Odd. My father does not seem the nurturing type."

"How would you know?" Tim snipped. "You barely know the man-"

"Who asked you, Drake? Or should I say, the wannabe Wayne..."

"Both of you are acting like infants." Alfred interceded. "Enough nonsense!"

"I will if he will." Damian was petulant.

Tim folded his arms, smug. "Sure short bits. Whatever turns you on."

"You dare?!"

"Let's all play in the sandbox, kiddies." Dick cracked. "As I was saying. After the Joker killed Jason, Bruce went on a rampage. He was out of control, almost mindlessly violent."

Damian blinked. "If that was such a concern, why weren't you there?"

"I had left the nest, so to speak. My base of operations became Bludhaven. Tim hadn't arrived on the scene, so there was no buffer for Bruce."

"It was a dark time indeed." Alfred admitted. "Several times, he nearly killed someone. I tried to get him to seek help."

Damian frowned, his youthful face ridiculously serious. "It's unfortunate I wasn't there. It would have made a difference, I think."

"Perhaps.” Alfred was thoughtful. “And his mood now...resembles those times. I have a bad feeling about this."

Dick nodded. "When he turned down a visit from Clark and Diana, I knew something was wrong."

Tim agreed. "Yeah, the phone's been ringing off the hook from the JLA. They're all worried."

Alfred stood suddenly, making a decision. "Enough. This cannot continue. Bruce has become a virtual recluse, and time worsens his condition."

"You think he'll talk to you now?" Tim was hopeful.

"He will. I'll accept no refusal." And with that, Alfred stalked out of the kitchen. The others watched in amazement.

"You go, Alfred." Dick grinned.

()

Alfred carried a tray of cheese, biscuits and grapes down to the cave. It was one of Bruces’ favorite snack combos that he often indulged in. Measured steps wound down seemingly endless stairs into the dank gloom.

In the center of the gloom sat Bruce at his computer station. The screens were dark, his head inclined in shadow.

Alfred stepped up boldly. "Master Bruce, I have your favorite treats. Come, eat."

Bruce stirred as if from sleep. "Alfred."

"Yes. It's encouraging you respond."

Weird blue eyes nearly glowed in the darkness. "Yes, I still retain the power of speech."

Alfred set the tray nearby. "Eat, I said." to his utter surprise, Bruce wolfed down biscuits before starting on the grapes.

"S' Good."

"Indeed." Alfred went to a nearby wall and hit the light controls. "I however, am not a bat. I prefer at least minimal lighting at times."

"Sorry." Bruce kept eating.

Alfred pulled up a chair. "And now that you're no longer starving, you can explain your behavior."

Chiseled jaws went hard. "I don't wish to discuss it, Alfred. The Omega Sanction-"

"Was nearly a month ago. Wayne Enterprises is in a shambles. Hush still runs free. New international gangs are taking over Gotham-"

"You think I don't know this?"

"And sitting in the dark changes things?"

"No!" Bruce stood abruptly. "You don't understand, no one understands." his head dropped suddenly.

"Bruce." Alfred reached out, gripping his arm. "Sit. Talk to me. You could always tell me anything."

Bruce nodded vaguely. "I know. But this is...something else."

"Tell me anyway. What haven't we shared?"

Bruce managed a wan smile. "You'll never look at me the same way again."

"Let me be the judge of that."

A heavy sigh. Bruce plopped back down. "Where to begin?"

"You mentioned the Omega Sanction several times but didn't elaborate."

"That was only the follow up. The worst was what I discovered after the helicopter crash."

Alfred considered. "When we thought you were dead after that buisness with the Black Glove."

Bruce looked wild, his eyes bright. "I left something out in my notes."

Alfred narrowed his eyes. "The Case Book. Why?"

"Because." another deep breath. "Maybe I'm finally going mad. It would be merciful if I was, then I wouldn't know the difference-"

"Stop." Alfred ordered. "You're babbling, Bruce. Focus!"

"Yes." the deep voice steadied a bit. "After the helicopter crashed, I remember falling into the water. When I made it to the surface, I could see the remnants of the fire over the horizon. So I swam to the opposite shore. Had a few bruises, nothing serious. And then it happened."

"What happened?"

"The moment that changed my life forever. Everything the Black Glove did up to that point was rehearsal. I scrambled to shore and caught my breath, just laying there at the edge of the waves. And then I heard him."

"Someone was there on the shore with you?"

"Someone appeared on the shore with me. I was alone seconds before."

"Go on."

"The air was inexplicably warm in one area nearby. I rolled to my side and glanced up. Not ten feet away was Simon Hurt, staring at me."

Alfred gawked. "What?!"

Bruce nodded numbly. "Alfred, his clothes weren't even wet or damaged. I smelled no smoke on him either. No mark, no injury at all! And when he saw me staring, he just smiled!"

"But...we all presumed he was dead."

"No. Everything felt unearthly, strange. The hairs on my neck stood up. And I sensed that weird hole, the gaping darkness I first noticed when I was five."

"Bruce!" Alfred shook him. "He could be a metahuman. You've worked with powerful beings before."

"This was different, I tell you. The darkness had sound, like waves along the air. Reality felt distorted."

"He could have been influencing you-"

"It was the influence of his presence. As if he didn't need to hide it with just the two of us there."

Alfred paused. "Did he...mention your father again?"

Bruce gritted his teeth and looked away. "He claims to be Thomas Wayne. During our clash I denied it and accused him of being Mangrove Pierce."

"But Bruce, that makes no sense. Why would an actor try to destroy you? What would be his motive? Besides, he was a friend of the family!"

"You think I don't know how crazy it sounds?" Bruce started pacing. "I couldn't come up with anything else, it was as if my mind shut down at the possibility."

"I knew your father-"

Bruce stood away, his back turned. "Alfred, I'm going to tell you what he said to me."

()

(Italic)

Bruce lay on the shoreline, his entire body rigid with shock. The enemy stood before him, smiling and assured.

"You." Bruce hissed. "Impossible!"

Hurt almost appeared to glide his way without moving. A black gloved hand reached out.

"You thought that absurd episode could harm me? Come, take my hand."

"Never, Hurt. Keep your distance!"

"I'm afraid that's impossible." Hurt moved away briefly, reconsidering. "As you wish."

Bruce stood warily, rage shaking his body. "I should kill you for what you've done." He snarled. A shadow crossed his face.

Hurt smiled oddly. "You've grown so, Bruce. I commented on it before you were drugged."

"I won't play games with you, Hurt. What do you hope to accomplish wearing my father's costume?"

"I am your father, as I said before."

"You're a liar, and a bad one at that. First you claim to be Thomas Wayne. Next, your Black Glove will produce evidence regarding my parents and Alfred. Which is it, Hurt? Make up your mind. You're all over the place!"

Hurt tilted his head in thought. "Not really. Once I was Thomas Wayne. No, twice."

"No more games!" Bruce roared, rage boiling over. He lunged at Hurt.

Laughing deeply, Hurt grabbed his wrists and held them high. "Yes! This is the moment I wanted."

"You sick, twisted bastard-" despite his strength, Bruce couldn't break free.

Hurt was suddenly calm, serious. "And in this moment. If you could kill me, would you?"

"Yes!!" Bruce growled, still straining against impossible strength.

Hurt smiled knowingly again. "How would you do it? Tell me."

Bruce flexed his hands against Hurt's grip. "I would rip out your eyeballs and feed them to you. Or maybe push in your ribcage and tear out a kidney."

Hurt's eyes narrowed in appreciation. "Yesss. Continue, Bruce."

"I'd save the best for last." Bruce showed white teeth, his voice gutteral. "I'd fist up your ass and pull out your entire intestine. Maybe even eat your heart for fun. Or beat you over the head with your spine!!"

Hurt closed his eyes briefly. "Enough." he squeezed the captured wrists hard. Bruce wailed in pain as strength left his body. A wave of weakness left him gasping at Hurt's feet.

"Well said, boy." Hurt appeared satisfied. "You please me greatly, where others have disappointed."

Bruce managed to lift his head wearily. "Why did you want to destroy me?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Hurt reached down with impossible speed and pulled Bruce up.

"Answer my question."

"Because it's what I do, what I am." Hurt emphasized. "I am a force of nature, Bruce. Not defined by mortal standards of power. I am primal, and eternal."

"The New Gods make similar claims. Should I be impressed?"

"They are merely immortals who rely on science. I need no technology. I embody a concept, and cannot be defeated."

"You can be opposed." Bruce was stubborn. "And I plan to do so."

Hurt touched Bruce on the cheek. He jerked away.

"It would be like fighting the tide, Bruce. You cannot win. Dark cannot defeat dark."

Bruce gawked at him. "What the hell are you talking about-"

Hurt smiled again. "Oh, dear child. How to fight the dark, when you are the dark? Your entire life has been spent cultivating fear. Your grandiose delusion was to be a champion of light while brandishing the dark. And I know you better than anyone, even Alfred."

"I seriously doubt that."

Hurt paced around in a circle. "You doubt my identity."

"On the contrary, I think you're a whack job that needs to be in Arkham."

Hurt glared ominously. "Despite what you sense? What you feel in your soul?"

Bruce didn't answer immediately, eyes flashing.

"Very well, detective." Hurt grinned slyly. "Though I cursed the cape and cowl, I will give you another chance. Because it amuses me. Because you are my son."

"More lies." Bruce stated, standing tall now. "You can kill me, Hurt. But I won't be a slave!"

A deep sigh. "My sweet, deluded Bruce." Hurt turned in a grand gesture. "What will it take to convince you? I'm standing here, unharmed. You attacked the helicopter, yet here I am."

"Invulnerability. I've seen it before."

"Have an answer for everything, do you?"

"Not necessarily. But I've seen evil sophistication before."

"You have no idea." Hurt's voice took an odd tone. Features briefly shaded in darkness.

"You know of course, I'm the devil."

"Try again, Hurt. Surviving a fiery crash doesn't prove you're the primary entity of evil."

"The Joker knew it when he saw me. And on a deep, instinctual level you sense it too. But your worldly outlook refuses to accept the possibility. Of course, that's an advantage of mine in the modern times. Technology and study makes mankind more cynical. I love the look on mortal faces when they discover the truth."

"Your tales are inconsistent at best."

"You are about to embark on a great adventure." Hurt was suddenly at his side again, startling Bruce. A black gloved hand clasped a broad shoulder.

"So. What would it take to convince you, boy? Parlor tricks and a puff of smoke? How about the old silly cliche, complete with red skin, horns and tail?"

Bruce stared in disbelief. "I’ve encountered hell lords before. You underestimate me."

"Never. However, you were nearly broken."

Bruce was bitter. "I don't deny that."

Hurt gave an expansive smile, brown eyes expressive again. "Ah. Ask me something no one else could possibly know about you."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "The black glove had great resources, obviously."

"No, something personal. Not available for public record. Shall I tell you what I know?"

"I don't-"

"When you were five, you stood at a well. Bats flew past and you realized the mortality of your parents. You knew their deaths were imminent. Is that correct?"

"You...could have obtained that information when I was under the influence of your experiments."

"Fine. You're stubborn, like your mother. Until she broke."

"Don't mention her name to me." Bruce was angry again.

Hurt stared across the shoreline, waning sunlight on his features. "You're an impressive specimen, Bruce. It was a joy to bring you near the brink. My servants were correct. You shine. Purity, and darkness."

"You'll forgive me if I don't thank you properly."

"However, your education isn't over. Ask me your question."

Bruce realized for the first time in his life he was wading in unknown territory...alone. "I want you out of Gotham. Away from me and mine."

"That wasn't a question. Eyes watching you always, even as a child. My eyes. Written into your Casebook, all the strange occurances your obsessive logic couldn't explain. Your childlike dream of a funeral. The future vision of your supposed son over the body of a batman, and Gotham in flames. But Damian was right. The third Batman was the worst, and I am he."

Bruce stared in shock. "What in God's name are you?"

For the first time, Hurt exploded in rage. Eyes briefly flashing crimson, he grabbed Bruce by the throat and lifted him effortlessly.

"You dare speak that way to me. In His name? In My name!! Are you such a fool?"

Bruce choked, but spat his contempt. "I won't serve...the black glove. My life has been committed to battling evil."

"Moron. With untold souls to have and corrupt, why would I spend so much attention on you? Did it ever occur to you there was another reason?!"

"Because...I'm special..." Bruce grimaced sarcastically in the chokehold.

Hurt dropped him abruptly. "Yes, there is that. But I don't lie, Bruce. At least not sometimes."

Bruce rubbed his throat vigorously as he kneeled in the sand. "So you say. What if you're a New God gone whack with delusions of grandeur?"

"Hardly. Look around you." reality shifted and changed. To his amazement, Bruce found himself standing alongside Hurt on the rings of Saturn. The panoramic view took his breath away, as the gigantic planet turned slowly. He could actually feel the motion and sense the electromagnetic pulse emanating from the core. Brilliant color from various space debris sparkled against the backdrop of the sun.

"It's staggering." his voice held almost childlike wonder. He glanced down at himself in street clothes. “Unencumbered. No armor, no protection-“

"All this and more will I show you, eventually. Not through the shelter of technology and spaceships, but with your own perception and power."

"I'm just a man, Hurt."

"What am I, Bruce?"

A pause. "Clearly, you're a being of immense power. To deny that would be foolish."

Hurt scrutinized Bruce with burning eyes. "What else?"

Bruce glanced away. "Dark. Fathomless. And I want nothing to do with this."

"I am also Thomas Wayne."

"Again with that."

"Yes." suddenly they were on the shoreline again, miles away from the helicopter wreckage. Bruce blinked to check his perceptions.

"Tell me something." Bruce challenged, facing Hurt. "Let's say I believe your claim, which I don't. After everything you put me through, was that statement supposed to make me break completely?"

"I was prepared for your denial, Bruce. But it changes nothing."

"More to the point, what kind of father tries to systematically destroy his son? Thomas Wayne was a philanthropist, a brilliant surgeon-"

Hurt waved him off. "Yes, I know all that. As I said, you were supposed to die but it didn't happen."

"And how would my dying help you in the least?"

Hurt cleared his throat. "Let's just say, I've worn many hats in the Wayne history. The ritual sacrifice was to release you, destroy your mortality."

Bruce blinked, his face blank. "What?”

Hurt boomed in laughter. "Your expression is priceless, Bruce. You truly think like a mortal. Death is not always what you expect. Your Thogal experience proved that, yes?"

"What are you getting at?"

"All you did was get in touch with your inner self. In turn you sought me out without realizing it."

Bruce was lost in thought. "A place that was beyond anything I'd known."

"And I was there. Waiting, and watching patiently."

"For what? I only wanted to be left alone."

"No, you wanted to confront the truth. And you found me." Hurt gestured grandly again. "The ten eyed men were useful in wounding your soul, leaving space for me to influence. But they miscalculated. Instead of cutting away your demons, they allowed them to bleed out."

"No!"

"Your soul felt black and sick, you said. You were wrong, Bruce. Your power nearly manifested itself several times over the years but you held it back, not understanding."

Shock. "You're wrong, Hurt. I was turning into a cold, distant bastard-"

"Paranoid. Obsessive. Fearful. Seething with rage, despite outward control. Nurturing the darkness within. I cite the tower of Babel incident, the OMACs. War Games. Three sets of circumstances which, given the right push, would have brought you to my side."

"You're insane. I'm leaving now-"

"No." Hurt gestured. Bruce was rooted to the spot, unable to move.

"Let me go! I'm not evil, Hurt. No matter what you say."

"Evil? Purity. Exquisite darkness."

"Evil for it's own sake. The worst kind. The kind that must be overcome at all costs."

Hurt smiled darkly. "I smell the fear in your soul, Bruce. Fear of what might be. Fear that I'm telling the truth."

"No, you're not."

A gloved hand touched Bruce on the chest. "The mark of the Bat. Wear it well, my son."

"I'm not your-"

"One last thing to clear up before I leave. I assumed the shape of Mangrove Pierce for my own ends, and yes, the Black Glove movie was cursed. Thomas Wayne the doctor never existed per se...he was an identity I assumed to infiltrate the Wayne line. However, your good ancestor Thomas Wayne was an excellent servant, which is why I decided to assume his name."

"You assumed his body."

"No. Body hopping is a tedious process at best. Periodically I visit earth to cause havoc and destruction in person. You know, have a little fun here and there...it spices up immortality."

Bruce could only shake his head.

"I realize this is a lot to absorb. You asked why I wanted to destroy you. I had to try, Bruce. I needed to know if you were strong enough to rule at my side one day. If I couldn't break you completely, despite my resources and knowledge...well, let's just say you got high marks. I couldn't be more proud."

"Damn you!!"

"A bit redundant, don't you think? However, I want to leave you with this." Hurt reached inside his cloak and pulled out a thin book.

Bruce found he could move again, nearly toppling forward. He recovered quickly.

"What's that supposed to be?"

"Use your contacts with the JLA to reach that angel, what's his name? Zauriel? I generally don't pay attention to mid range principalities, but he's high enough on the food chain to recognize my writing."

Numbly, Bruce took the book and opened it. "This script is unfamiliar to me, but looks faintly Arabic. Maybe Sanskrit."

"Not precisely. Have it verified to your satisfaction, Bruce."

Bruce clenched his teeth. "I will."

Hurt smiled again, inclining his head slightly. "Enjoy your upcoming vacation. I'm certain you'll have the time of your life."

"Hurt!"

"They say you only go around once. Or several times, in some instances." he abruptly leaned forward and kissed a stunned Bruce on the cheek.

"Darkness be with you. Fare you well, son. Until we meet again."

()

Bruce held his head. "And that's all of it, Alfred. He abruptly vanished, leaving me standing there like an idiot with the book."

"Bruce, I want you to breathe and relax." Alfred insisted. "Sit."

Bruce nodded, dropping down. The broad chest heaved with tension.

Alfred was very still, taking it all in. "The book. That's what you've been down here doing the last few days, investigating?"

"Yes. I...Alfred-"

"Easy. Tell me."

Bruce stared at the floor in defeat. "Zauriel confirmed the accuracy. He was shocked I had the book, and recognized the writing immediately."

Alfred was uneasy. "Then that means..."

Bruce covered his face with his hands. "It means I'm the devil's son. I don't...I can't wrap my head around this, Alfred. No drug induced nightmare could be this bad."

Alfred moved over, squeezing broad shoulders. "My God...Bruce."

"Wrong one." Bruce choked, nearly in tears. "What can I do, Alfred? My whole life has been a sham. The mission, my parents. And Hurt knew I was going to the Sanction. He knew."

Alfred swallowed. "You witnessed evidence to Hurt's claims?"

"Live and up close. I nearly went into shock. My parents...it was all true. Mother was...she was..."

"Stop. Breathe."

"They were climbing all over her, taking turns. And I witnessed the live sacrifices in the lower levels, Alfred. I couldn't stop anything, it was like events were meant to happen. Hurt was there, directing traffic."

Alfred rubbed his eyes wearily. "Good Lord. Evil for it's own sake."

"It gets worse. You know the files I had on Jezebel Jet? All wrong."

"But how?"

"Alfred, I saw her too, in the 1700s. She was performing a ritual sacrifice for Hurt down in the sub levels. She was his daughter, Alfred. His daughter."

"No" the elder brit gasped in horror. "Bruce..."

Bruce leaped to his feet, the whites of his eyes showing. He clutched his head.

"All my life, I've considered myself a vigilante of justice. I shaped myself into a symbol of fear to terrorize street level creeps and goons. That's what I know, that's what I'm good at. I had no delusions about being a batgod, or being invulnerable. Sure, I've encountered high tech and supernatural levels of existence. But I never faced any major threat alone, without the league. Now I'm supposed to believe I'm the spawn of ultimate evil?!"

Alfred stared in fright. "Stop yelling, you've got to calm down-"

"Why that's all fine, Alfred, don't you think? It's perfect! A complete cycle of insanity. Wayne Enterprises is taken over by my ex best friend who's trying to ruin me. Weird new criminals with powers are infiltrating Gotham. The devil is my father. I've slept with my sister. Anything else? Oh yes, I've got another son in Limbo Town, a little witch boy. It's all good!!"

Alfred grabbed him. "I'm going to give you a sedative, Bruce-"

The big man kept turning like a maniac. "No, no, I'm fine. Never better. What the hell. Or should I say who the hell?!"

He and Alfred froze, seeing Dick, Tim and Damian staring in shock nearby.

Bruce heaved into tears, shaking and collapsing. Alfred shielded him as he fell.

"Bruce!" Dick flew to his side first, followed closely by Tim and Damian.

Damian watched Bruce in dismay. "Father...are you sick?" a small hand touched in concern.

Bruce wiped the hand against his tears but couldn't speak.

Tim crouched low. "Alfred, we have to do something."

Alfred glanced around at all of them. "Did you hear what he said just now?"

"All of it." Dick breathed, leaning down. "I was afraid of this, especially after what we found downstairs."

Tim held close. "We won't leave you, Bruce. Easy."

They encircled Bruce on the floor, reassuring, stroking his hair. Eventually the big body eased from tension, resting heavily against Alfred.

"You heard." the deep voice was ragged from emotion.

"Yes, Bruce." Dick soothed, lifting a lock of hair away. "Insane or not, we'll get through this. You aren't alone."

"Never." Tim insisted.

"I'm a thing. Evil."

"How can you say that, father?" Damian was stressed. "Mother told me constantly what a hero you were to your friends, this city. Nothing evil would be held in such high regard."

"He's right." Dick added, smiling gently. "Nothing from your past is changed."

"But I am changed, Dick.This isn't...I'm not comfortable with the implications, for obvious reasons."

Tim sat back on his heels a bit. "Maybe we need another perspective. Someone who would understand." a pause. "Are you certain what Hurt told you is true?"

Bruce nodded. "He was right about one thing. I felt it, in ways I can't describe. And the possibility frightened me. After the Thogal ritual, I thought I was done with the darkness."

"It seemed like a good move at the time, Bruce." Tim said gently. "When I found you in the desert you seemed a little...well..."

"Crazy?" Bruce managed a grin. "Yes, I suppose I did. But the relief was palpable, Tim. Now I see it was merely a reprieve."

"We can contact Raven and Zauriel, Bruce." Dick rubbed stiff shoulders. "They can counsel you on this situation, help you deal with it."

"I appreciate it, Dick." Bruce leaned against Alfred again, shivering.

"It is too cold on the floor, father." Damien offered. "Come, let us take you upstairs. This is no place to be now."

"You're right." Bruce slurred in exhaustion. "I...have to thank you all. Try not to look at me differently-"

"Come on, Bruce. Up." Dick insisted, hauling the big man by a shoulder. Tim caught the other side.

Damian led the way as they wound up the long stairwells. He glanced back frequently.

"Be careful with him! He might fall."

"Relax, would you?" Tim was annoyed as they literally lifted Bruce along. "We've got him tight."

Alfred brought up the rear, his voice rich with wisdom. "Master Bruce, please remember this. If what Hurt says is true, know that he was once of the light. It was a conscious choice on his part to turn."

"Yes." Bruce sounded vaguely hopeful. "You're right."

"Power has no morality. What you do with it makes the difference."

Bruce smiled weakly. "You know, when Hurt was talking I was thinking about you. Wondering if in another life you weren't my real father."

Alfred winked at him. "Why young sir, I already am."

Rare laughter echoed the caves as they all ascended upward.

THE END
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Veils of Night