LOOKING INTO THE ABYSS by Terry Winder

Copyright 2006

Disclaimer: I don't own them and my life would be so different if I did.

Synopsis: Barbara, Bruce and a gun

LOOKING INTO THE ABYSS

"Matt, you can't account for everything that happens to people who touch you. You know, I learned a long time ago, there are some things in this life that you just accept the way they are." (Kitty Russell -Gunsmoke)

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He'd been a government agent in service to his Queen. He'd saved the soul of his country more than once in his long life. He'd seen men die to protect the rights and lives of others. He knew that a man was changed forever when he took the life of another. The reason didn't matter. Whether the life taken was in self-defense or to protect others, the one who took it had to live with knowledge that he'd destroyed a person who could not be recreated.

Alfred stood at the clock entrance to the Batcave and looked into the darkness below. He didn't hear Master Tim approach from the den.

"Is he still down there?" Master Tim asked.

Alfred nodded. "He hasn't come up for three days. He hasn't taken nourishment in two." He looked down at the boy and wondered if Master Tim really understood what was going on. Maybe, Alfred thought, Master Tim believed Master Bruce was purposely being moody so that the lad couldn't go on patrol.

Alfred worried about the boy. He was almost as young as Master Dick had been when he began his night career, but the difference was that Master Bruce never let Master Dick go out by himself until he was in his senior year in high school. Now Master Tim often went out alone because Master Bruce was tied up with League business.

Master Tim stepped a little closer to the entrance and peered into the obscurity below, then stepped back and looked at Alfred. "I've never seen him like this before."

Alfred pursed his lips tightly. "I have."

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Alfred had called and asked that she come over. At first, Barbara wondered why Alfred didn't call Dick. After all, in the grand scheme of things, she was still relatively new to this "club" and if Bruce was going to have a "mood," then Dick, who had the most history with the man, would be the one who could snap him out of it the quickest.

Alfred answered by saying: "Master Dick won't help." Barbara didn't press Alfred any further for an explanation because she already knew the answer. She was the problem. Once Dick found out that she and Bruce had become close, Dick minimized his contact with both of them.

This predicament with Bruce would be hers to solve.

She walked down the winding stairs to the cave floor. Bruce was seated in the single chair in front of the computer. Lights blinked and flashed on the monitor display in a rhythm of their own, but Bruce didn't notice. He sat slumped in the chair with his fingertips to his face almost as if he were in prayer; his cowl was off his face.

If he noticed her approach, he didn't betray it.

She knelt down beside the chair and tried to look into his blue eyes. "Want to talk about it?" she asked in a voice she usually reserved for conversations with her father.

Bruce turned and looked at her with an expression that gave her chills. Then he turned back and stared straight ahead. "And say what?" he snapped. "That I'm no better than the murderers I take off the street? How do you analyze that with your psychology 101 course?"

Barbara stood up. "Where'd that come from? I was trying to help." Her tone had been sharp and she tried to soften it. "Alfred said the last time you were holed up down here like this was when the Jazzman shot my dad. You blamed yourself for being late to the arrest and for not preventing the Jazzman from almost killing him."

Bruce sighed and looked at her. "This is different."

"How?" she asked softly. "Tell me." She paused before adding, "Please."

There was a long silence. "I killed a man... with a gun." Barbara thought that he sounded like a little boy who knew he'd done something wrong and hoped no one would find out. Years later, she would later tell Terry McGinnis over coffee that she'd never heard Bruce sound as sad as he did at that moment. Never.

She didn't know what to say and secretly felt that whatever she said wouldn't be enough. She knelt down beside the chair again and simply said, "Bruce." And she waited.

After another minute of silence, Bruce spoke slowly as if he were re-living each second of his ordeal. He told Barbara how the ghost of Boston Brand, known as Deadman, helped him, Superman and Wonder Woman stop a plot by Grodd to turn all of mankind into apes. One of Grodd's henchmen, Devil Ray, had tried to kill Wonder Woman, but Deadman jumped into Bruce's body, picked up a gun and fired at Devil Ray. The shot hit Devil Ray in the upper body and knocked him into an exposed and damaged electrical box, killing him. Only when Deadman left his body did Bruce realize what he'd done. He'd taken a life by the same means used to deprive an eight year old boy of his parents. To Bruce, nothing he had ever done or could do was worse than that one action.

The tears formed in Barbara's eyes as she mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."

Bruce looked into her eyes as he said, "So am I. I think I'm going to quit."

Barbara gasped and then stood up. She put her hands on her hips. "You can't quit," she exclaimed. "This town needs you."

Bruce shook his head and then stood. He leaned over the computer console and looked back at her. "Needs me? Who are we kidding? I haven't been in Gotham. You and Tim have done all the work around here. Thanks to Boston Brand, I'm no better than any other killer on the street."

"You know that's not true," said a voice from the top of the stairs.

It was Wonder Woman and for a moment Barbara felt a pang of jealousy. She ignored it, yet couldn't help but note how tall the woman was as she gracefully made her way down the steps and approached Bruce. Tall and beautiful.

"You haven't answered your pager in days and you turned your communicator off. I was worried about you," Wonder Woman said. "Alfred told me you were here. I just needed a live-sighting. But no more talk about you quitting. There are too many people who depend on you." She smiled at him and Barbara wondered if this woman had any flaws because her smile was perfect, too.

"That's what I told him," Barbara said, suddenly feeling like she was training wheels on a bicycle. Oh yeah, Babs. Impress her with your intellect.

Wonder Woman smiled at Barbara and then looked at Bruce.

"You saved my life, Bruce," she said quietly. "You need to remember that above anything else. I know telling you that it wasn't you but Deadman who fired the gun won't make your pain go away."

Wonder Woman paused and then added, "Seems like you paid the greatest price for saving me... and I'm sorry."

Bruce looked at her hard and then sighed. "Thank you for stopping by, Diana. Alfred will show you out."

Wonder Woman didn't seem perplexed by Bruce's response. Instead she returned Bruce's glare with one of her own. "I'll find my own way out, thank you, but not before I tell you this. You can stay down here and wallow in whatever self-pity you want. But you need to know. I am grateful you saved my life but, Bruce, I am not feeling the least bit guilty because you did." She turned and flew up the stairs.

Barbara watched Wonder Woman leave. She certainly knows how to make an exit. She turned back to Bruce who was seated in the chair again.

"She's right you know," Barbara offered. "She is absolutely right."

Bruce sat up. "You can leave too."

Barbara shook her head. "I can't help you, Bruce, but I do intend to leave. Not because you want to wallow in self-pity, but to go patrol. This city needs a Bat to watch out for it. Tim and I can't do this by ourselves but we will if we have to. This morning the Riddler left a riddle. I'm sure we'll solve it without your help."

She started up the stairs, stopped and then looked over her shoulder back at him. "I just hope we solve it in time."

Bruce looked at her. His expression was flat. "What was the riddle, Barbara?"

She turned around and came back down the stairs and stood next to the computer. There was a wisp of a smile on her face. Gotcha.

"What do you call the slate worker's wife and child?" she said. She paused and watched him frown. "Any ideas?" Come on Bruce. Get back in the game.

He leaned back in the chair and stared straight ahead. Suddenly he sat up and pulled his cowl over his face. He entered data into the computer and read the displayed results to himself.

"Just as I thought," he said as he stood. "It's still here, but this is the last night." He turned to Barbara. "Get dressed. We're going on a hunt at the museum."

"You solved it already. What is it?" He's back.

Bruce nodded as he adjusted his utility belt. "The traveling art exhibition from the Louvre is currently in the Gotham museum. It returns to Paris in the morning. One of the exhibits is a painting by da Vinci entitled, "Madonna of the Rocks."

Barbara looked at Bruce with what she knew to be a 'deer in the headlights' look and then mockingly slapped her forehead. "Oh. I get it. Mother and child of the quarry. See? I thought it had something to do with the Beatles and music. I'll be ready in about twenty minutes."

She was halfway up the stairs when he called out to her, "Barbara."

She stopped, turned and looked at him.

"Beatles' music?" he said. His tone was more of a 'how did you get that answer?' as opposed to a 'why did you get THAT answer!'

She smiled at him. "A slate worker is called a quarryman. And before they changed their band name, the Beatles were known as the Quarrymen. One of their songs was 'Lady Madonna.' So I was going to investigate the music angle first since the bass guitar of one of the former members is on display at the Gotham Lyric Theatre and then if that didn't pan out, be at the museum by midnight when they load the painting into the armor car for its trip to the airport."

Bruce was silent and then slowly smirked. "So you knew what time they're loading the painting, but couldn't figure out the clue, huh? You knew all along, didn't you?"

"I needed the master to tell the student which answer was right." She paused. "And you did." She turned to head back up the stairs.

"Barbara, be ready in thirty minutes," he said, flashing a quick smile. "I need to shower first. Then we'll check out both places."

She nodded and continued up the steps. "I'll be ready and I'll tell Tim to get ready too so we can check out both places at the same time," she said over her shoulder softly.

I'm just happy to have you back in the game.

END

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