Batman
Future Tales, 2045
And in the End…
by Immortalwildcat
They say that old soldiers never die, they just fade away. On the 75th anniversary of the first public appearance of the Batman, an old man reminisces with his granddaughter about seeing his life’s mission through to its very end.
***
October 17, 2045:
The old manor house was dark and quiet as she entered. She glanced up at the painting in the great hallway of a man and woman smiling, the love shared between them obvious in their expressions. As she slowly ascended the great staircase, she reflected on how that love had given birth to a life spent in vengeance, in turmoil, in heroism. At the top of the stairs, she turned and walked to the double doors at the end of the hall. Knocking quietly, she entered when a voice from within bade her to do so.
“Hello, Granddad,” she said, ignoring the nurse and walking over to the bed. “How are you doing today?”
A broad, weathered face, creased with wrinkles and surrounded by a mane of white hair, turned toward her. The thin-lipped mouth turned upward in a smile. “Better than I should be, Mary. Better than I should be.”
“I just came from visiting Mom, and she asked me to give you her best.”
“Thank you, Mary. How is she doing?” he asked.
“Better,” she replied, nodding. “The nursing home staff is taking great care of her, and the counselor is pleased with how she’s dealing with the grief.”
The man in the bed was silent for a moment, his eyes closed as memories ran through his head. “That’s good,” he said at last. “I never imagined I would outlive Dick.” His eyes opened again, and he looked at Mary. “My offer still stands, you know. There are plenty of rooms here, and I’m happy to pay for whatever care or staff she wants.”
“I know, and she knows,” Mary said. “But she says there are so many memories here, she doesn’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
“Of course, of course.” He sank back on the pillows for a moment. “Hrnh. I never thought I would outlive any of them,” he murmured.
“What’s that?” asked Mary.
Her grandfather glanced over at the nurse, who sat at her monitors. “Excuse me, Jayleen? Could we have a few minutes alone?”
The olive-skinned woman stood up and smiled. “Of course, sir. The remotes will let me know if there’s any problem.” She grabbed a small device from the station and walked out.
“Mary, you’ve heard all the stories about what your parents and I did,” said the old man. “Think about it, could any of us seriously expect to survive to old age, much less all of us?”
“I heard all about the fights and tracking down all the bad guys,” Mary said. “But I also heard about the way you made Dad train, hour after hour, in everything from self-defense to escape artistry. And when you found out Mom was doing this, too, you made her train as much as you could, too — and Jason, and Tim.”
“It was the best I could do for them, if they were determined to work with me.” His tone changed as he asked, “Have you heard from Tim lately?”
“He sent Mom a v-mail a couple days ago,” Mary replied. “He’s doing well. It looks like they were right about lunar gravity helping to curb some of the effects of aging. He seems younger than me.”
“Good,” the old man said. “It was a good choice for him, that position as Director of the Tycho Crater colony.”
“I think so,” she said, pulling something from the briefcase she had carried in. “I came across this as I was going through some of Dad’s things. I thought you might like to see it again, especially today.” She handed him a newspaper, which he unfolded to reveal the front page headline.
MYSTERIOUS BAT-MAN FOILS CHEMICAL BLACKMAIL/MURDER PLOT
Underneath was a picture, showing a man in gray tights with a black cowl and cape, black boots and purple gloves swinging on a rope over a cordon of police cars.
“My first public appearance,” he said, chuckling. “Oh, my, was I ever that primitive?”
“I like the gloves,” Mary answered with a grin.
“What did you mean by ‘especially’…? Oh! Has it really been that long?” he asked.
“October 17, 1970,” Mary replied. “Seventy-five years ago, today.”
“And nearly twenty-five years since I gave it up,” he noted grimly. “I always figured your father would take my place.”
“By that time, he’d had enough of it, too,” Mary said. “And you had already outlasted most of the lunatics you fought, anyway. It was time for Grandpa Jim’s boys to take over again.”
“Okay if I keep this?” he asked. “I want to read the full article after you go.”
“Of course!” Mary said. “And I have to get going, anyway. The kids will be out of school shortly and need their chauffeur.” She leaned over and kissed the old man on the cheek. “I’ll stop by tomorrow, okay?”
“Sounds good to me, Mary,” said Bruce Wayne. “I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”
“I know,” replied Mary Grayson.
The End