Darkness battles the canines of conflict until they settle on a stalemate, retreating to their home turf and watching the girl on the path.

She grows stronger, though with each step she is more lost than ever before.

In time, she embraces her confusion until it becomes her own and then she is no longer lost, but simply a perpetual traveler, loose change from a thousand worlds jingling in her pockets.

Shoes of errant muses protect her feet from the shards of uncertainty and the stones of doubt.

Erstwhile Fates give her lodging along the endless stone bridge.

She feasts on the bread of knowledgeable atmosphere buttered with hope and daydreams.

She takes hardtack and honey when she goes and before lunchtime she has wandered to the edge of craftwork slumber and rests.

Dr. Cobb’s soft accent broke the silence. Will was glad to be sitting, the chair’s hard wood supporting him as he leaned on its arm, his head in his hands. He was sure his legs would not be able to support him if his life depended on it.

Only that morning, he and Jack had lain in bed together. Will had lost count how many times they circled around the same argument, him insisting that he needed to see this, Jack telling him it was pointless. Relenting at last, Jack made sure he spared no detail in his description of what Will would witness that evening, and it sounded as terrifying and horrible as he imagined. Will maintained his position; he thought he was ready.

Jack made a few feeble attempts throughout the day to dissuade Will, even after he had called Dr. Cobb and made the necessary preparations.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.” Jack’s handsome face was marred by worry, the scars that somehow added to his appeal flushing bright red. “Even once we get there, you can leave any time, I won’t be upset.”

“Are we coming to the truth now?” Will challenged him, tired of dancing around the subject. “You’re scared for yourself, aren’t you? This really has nothing to do with me at all, does it?”

“Of course I’m scared for you. I’ve seen the tapes.” Jack argued back, but said no more.

“You’re afraid I’m going to see this part of you and I’ll run away, is that it?” Will watched as Jack’s nervous gaze traveled down to his feet; the question had obviously struck home.

“Yes.” Jack replied and walked from the room.

They said little else the rest of the afternoon, but when Jack picked up his keys to leave, Will was right beside him. Painful silence hung between them on the long drive and they arrived at the isolated compound two hours later with a wall still between them.

Dr. Cobb greeted them warmly, leading them down the labyrinthine corridors of the facility. The elderly man in his bright, white lab coat looked as ancient and kindly as Jack had described him. He was also discreet enough to leave them alone for a few moments once they had reached a heavy steel door that matched all the others they had passed. This one had a placard on the wall next to it, labeled with Jack’s name and a string of numbers and letters.

Jack looked at his feet. “The door locks from the outside. Once I’m in, you’re completely safe.”

Will lifted his lover’s chin, meeting Jack’s nervous gaze with his own. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

Kissing Jack’s forehead, Will stepped back as Dr. Cobb returned.

“Inside now, Jackie. It’s already dark out there.”

With a weak smile, Jack disappeared behind the door. Will caught a quick glimpse of a spare antechamber inside with another door on the opposite wall.

“Come wit me, ja?” Dr. Cobb took Will by the shoulder, leading him up a nearby flight of stairs. “You know, Vill, I haf known Jackie since he was a very young man. His cooperation has been very helpful and I haf much hope that ve vill find a cure in his lifetime.”

“He’s told me as much.” Will replied, his stomach lurching. The doctor’s timeframe could mean Jack would have to wait decades more for a cure, maybe never getting it.

“He has told you this is to be his full transformation cycle, ja?”

Will nodded. Medication kept Jack’s symptoms under control on most full moons, but he and the doctor had discovered that the drugs worked better when he fully gave in to his illness once every three cycles.

Opening another steel door, one floor up, Dr. Cobb led Will into a dim chamber. It was furnished only with a wooden chair, the floor carpeted in dark blue, industrial wall-to-wall. Light filtered in through a floor to ceiling window that ran the width of the room.

“Two way mirror.” Dr. Cobb answered Will’s unasked question. “Also ve have painted the otherzide wit a thin layer of paint to throw the beast off.”

A chill ran down Will’s back at the mention of ‘the beast’. He walked up to the window and looked down. Jack was already there, naked in the clinical, white room below. He was pacing its length.

Putting his hand on the glass, Will looked up at the doctor. “He can’t…”

“Break through? Nein.” Replied the doctor, tapping the glass softly. “Bulletproof.”

Dr. Cobb glanced down at Jack as he continued to tread back and forth, his bare feet audibly smacking along the cement floor.

“The volume for the speaker is here.” The elderly man indicated a panel next to the window. “It is one vay, he cannot hear you.”

Will nodded, sitting down on the edge of the chair. Jack had begun ringing his hands as he walked, growing more agitated with every circuit of the room. The pressure of a warm hand rested on Will’s shoulder.

“I vill be in the next room, vatching the monitors.” Will looked up, greeted by a reassuring smile and sad eyes. “If you need anyzing, use the intercom by the door.”

Saying nothing to the doctor, Will returned his focus to Jack’s disconcerting circuit of the room. A soft click signaling the elder man’s departure, Will sat back in the chair, attempting to take a deep breath and stop his pounding heart.

It seemed Jack was already lost to him, the person stalking back and forth on the other side of the glass bore little resemblance to the calm, reserved man he had curled against the night before. The beast inside him wasted little time in exerting its control over his body.

The panel that housed the speaker controls started blinking, drawing Will’s attention. A small readout appeared at the top, a light glowing on the left side began to blink, bright white in the dim light of the room. The moon had risen.

A great howl burst through the speaker, distorting the sound as it bounced off the walls. Jumping up, Will ran over and turned it down before hurrying back to the window. The microphones continued to transmit the sounds on the other side of the glass. A heavy panting, no longer quite human, filtered into Will’s ears.

He watched in horror, unable to look away, as Jack doubled over. Bones began shifting under his skin, growing and reconfiguring as the beast took possession of his form. Fur sprouted all over, growing thickest along his back, covering his protruding spine. Dark claws pushed past Jack’s fingernails and his jaw stretched, large teeth filling the length. A quiet whimpering, much like a dog’s continued to issue from the speaker.

When the transformation was complete, the beast resumed prowling the room. As Will watched, the wolfish creature began to systematically explore every edge of the room, searching for a weakness in the wall. It spent a long period of time sniffing the door and when it grew frustrated with the task, openly attacked the thick metal barrier.

Loud screeching echoed through the room as thick claws scraped against steel, gouging lines into the already pitted surface. The sound of a hatch opening somewhere near above drew the animal’s attention and Will watched with curiosity as a hole opened in the ceiling.

Immediately the beast began to jump as high as it could, much higher than Will though it capable of, considering its size. Something dropped, landing with a splat on the cement floor. Will’s stomach churned as he recognized the outline of a ribcage, his eyes taking in the bloody mess of a full side of beef.

The beast plunged into the carcass with gusto, rending joints and cracking bones apart. Will now wished he had lowered the volume even further on the speaker as the gnawing sounds issued towards him in a steady stream.

It took hours for the wolf to work its way through its meal, returning to its prowling as soon as it was satisfied. Will continued to watch it, his emotions a roiling mixture of terror, sadness and nausea. He was not sure when it had started, but tears filled his eyes and his nose was running. Leaning forward, he placed his hands flat against the glass.

“Oh, Jack.” He whispered.

The beast looked up, meeting his eyes, and Will recognized something in the feral yellow animal glare. There was power there, power he had glimpsed in Jack’s human eyes on the rare occasion he let his anger fly. It was terrifying, but some part of him was exhilarated. Trying to sort his swirling emotions, he realized there was another place he had seen flashes of that power. Something in his lower half stiffened even as his heart continued to pound with fear.

He spent the next few hours watching the beast circle the room, stopping every once in a while to try climbing a wall or scratching through the door. New emotions battled within Will’s mind, each gaining control for a moment before his next thought sent it back down to rejoin the fray. The pattern continued until the monitor on the wall began to blink once more.

As the sun rose, Will watched the previous evening’s process reverse itself. It was more violent this time, the wolfish creature obviously unwilling to relent its control as it thrashed about on the floor, howling with pain.

Will did not move, even after he saw Jack rise and wretch, emptying the contents of his stomach into the drain at the center of the room. He was perfectly still as he watched the gouged door open to allow Jack into the antechamber. He was still sitting there, pale except for red-rimmed eyes, when Dr. Cobb entered.

“Yes, Doctor.” Will whispered in reply to the doctor’s question. “Jack’s two worlds don’t like each other much.”

“He vill be vaiting for you downstairs. We have a more comfortable area vhere you can talk.”

Nodding, Will lifted himself out of the chair, forcing his legs to support him.

Jack did not look up when he entered the room, eyes focused firmly on his folded hands as he sat on a sleek, beige couch. Seeing him there, so human and vulnerable, stirred something within Will and he knelt in front of him, taking his hands. Jack looked up, meeting his eyes.

“I need some time.” Will whispered. “It was…”

“Worse than you thought?” Jack replied and Will knew he was trying to sound stoic.

He nodded. “Yes.”

He heard Jack take a breath and hold it for a moment. “I see.”

“But I’m not going anywhere.” Will hurried to correct the thought he knew was taking root in Jack’s mind. “I need time to digest this, I’d be crazy if I didn’t, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Tentative, Jack put a hand up to Will’s face. Will mustered up a tiny smile and Jack gave him an almost imperceptible nod, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“The doc has tests he’ll want to run and I’ve got two more nights of quarantine…” Jack’s words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Will nodded. “I’ll be home when it’s over. You’ll want the usual?”

“Yes, please.” He sighed, sitting back into the couch.

Seeing Jack relieved strengthened Will’s resolve. “One great big salad, coming up.”

He stood, bending down to kiss Jack’s forehead before slipping from the room.

I creep to him quietly.
My footsteps make no sound on the stone.
I bend over him, my lips touching his for a brief moment.

With an innocent kiss, I make my wish,
and stepping back, I wait for my miracle,
but my knight does not stir.

In repose forever, his sword at his side,
his limestone features await his chance to pray.
His eyes always look for God.

but that does not make me an artist

i craft stories

but that does not make me a writer

i sally forth and explore

and it is here that i forge my identity

i stake my claim

for the canvas of my journey expands infinitely

within my mind i walk the paths of discovery

and pray that i never reach my destination

for the journey is like breathing

and it is here that i feel most human

I swing, flying across the canyon of glass and steel and stone below me. Concentrate now, got to land this just right. Perfect. My left ankle feels it, still hasn’t healed completely. Got to be extra careful with it for a while, and that’s why I’m here. I know these buildings better than the ones in New York. Even better than the rooftops of the ‘Haven. The memory of that town makes my stomach lurch.

Got to keep moving, no time to think about that. My line shoots out and in seconds I’m on the next roof, a bit higher up than I was before. I keep moving. Don’t think now, Dick, just keep moving. And watch that ankle.

I climb, the noise of the street fading behind me until I’m high atop Wayne Tower. I’m home.

I breathe in, the breezes bringing me the scent of clean sea air instead of the fumes and stench of the city below. Listening to the wind, I stand at the precarious edge and look out across the town. Lights flicker and blink, but no car horns or backfiring engines reach my ears. It’s a kind of sanitized view, one that I don’t take for granted because I understand what lies beneath this facade of sparkle.

This is my inheritance, if ever the day should come when Bruce is gone. The mansion? Yes, I’ll get that, along with Alfred. The money? The company? Yup, that’ll be mine, too. Tim and I will split it all, fifty-fifty, like the good brothers we’ve become. But that’s just details, that’s just things and money. No, Bruce’s bequest to us will be larger than that, the size of a city, in fact.

There’s a mantle that someone needs to take on when he leaves. I used to think it would be my task to wear that cowl, that suit, and I used to want it, too. Now? I don’t think it’s for me anymore. I’ve changed, grown up, become ‘my own man’ as they say. No, Tim will get to be the Bat. He needs it more than I do, but I’ll be with him every step of the way.

Backing away from the edge, I stretch my ankle, test it by jumping a couple times. A cold gust blows by me and I’m thankful for the thermal lining under my suit. With little else to do, I move through an old kata I’ve not worked on in years. Bruce can meditate, Tim, too, but not me. If I sit for more than a couple minutes I just spiral into my own head, thoughts and memories doing their best to keep me from focusing. I’ve gotten better at it over the years, growing more focused out of necessity, though sometimes I’ll still find myself trying to banter with whoever’s fighting at my side. Underneath it all, I’m still a scared, mouthy kid with something to prove.

A few moves from the end I freeze mid-motion. Under the wind I hear a rustle of wings and I know I’m being watched. It still amazes me to this day. Few would have caught the sound and if I was less focused I would have missed it, too. Taking a slow, deep breath, I finish the exercise and turn toward the shadow behind me.

“Hello, Batman.”

He steps into the dim light filtering up from street level. Broad-shouldered, dark, imposing. Despite the adoption years ago, I’ve never been able to call him Dad.

“Dick.” he replies, moving closer.

I smile, “So we’re alone then?”

He gives a curt nod and steps to the edge of the building, taking a look down. It’s something he’s taught all of his ‘kids’ to do; a reminder to ourselves that it really is that far down and we’re not Superman.

“I’ve had the Tower roof shielded for sound and visual. No one can see or hear us up here unless we want them to.”

I shake my head and grin. Knowing Bruce, he did the job himself. No chance that anyone would scatter rumors that way.

“Good to know.” This is how it always is between us, choppy sentences, bits of information, but there is love there under it all, at least from my end and I’m pretty sure from his, too.

“How’s the ankle?” He asks, though I never mentioned the injury. That’s Barbara’s doing. Keeping tabs on everyone is her job, though I’m sure in my case it’s more of a chore now than a pleasure.

“Healing. Strong enough to get up here, anyway.”

“You’re staying for a while then?” He asks, stepping away from the ledge and meeting my eye with that famous, steady gaze.

Part of me is still the kid looking for attention and I wonder if I told him no, would he ask me to stay anyway, just because he’d like to see me?

“A while, yeah. I need to get this leg back in shape and New York is still too new to me. Got lost in Brooklyn last week.”

“I’ll let Alfred know, he’ll have your room ready by the time we get there.” No admonisment, he knows I’m working my ass off to learn the city. That’s the best sign of faith you’ll get from Bruce; no further questions.

“And how is the old man? And Tim?” Yes, it’ll be good to be around family for a bit. Still miss Babs, though.

“Good, both good.” For Bruce, that speaks volumes.

The night is still young and there’s patrol to do. I can almost feel his tension from here; he needs to be out there, watching the city.

“My bike is downstairs, I should head to bed.” I give him the out and I catch the slightest shift in his posture as he relaxes. There will be time to talk a bit more in the morning.

“I’m glad you’re home, Dick.” A hand rests on my shoulder for a second, but by the time I turn, the shadows have swallowed him.

“Me, too, Bruce.”