A/n. This is the last chapter you guys! I would love to thank all of you guys for reading this and reviewing-you rock! Hopefully, this last chappie is good enough for you awesome peeps.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Batman-he belongs to DC Comics sadly.

Bruce backed away from the metal plate (-the killing block, his humanity's gallows-), pressing up against the very back of the Tumbler until there was nowhere else to go. He heard an ominous creaking sound and part of the back of the Tumbler started caving in. (-he was going to be crushed in here with the bats, because he couldn't get up again after falling this time-) Panicking, he shouted in fear and pressed up against the sharp edges of the handles as he tried to edge away from the death trap.

"Mister Wayne! Get on!" he heard Fox's voice from far away, calling down from the top of a very deep hole (-where was his father, descending down on a wire so that he could tell Bruce what he should do after falling-).

"I…I can't!" he shouted, shrinking back as his own terrified voice echoed around him. There was the faint sound of murmuring voices above him and he panicked before Fox's voice echoed around him again.

"Why? Mister Wayne, the Tumbler is collapsing on itself, you need to get out now!" Bruce shook his head again (-the Tumbler had collapsed on itself before, after the Joker blew it up, and he was still here, so why should he be worried? But the empty killing block still remained-).

"I'm not gonna get on that killing block! Not gonna stand where I nearly killed a man!" he could nearly hear the confusion in their voices as they talked, but they were the voices of all the people dead because of him.(-Harvey and Rachel and Gordon and Mom and Dad and-). He shook his head, freaking out until-

"Master Wayne…Bruce." The voice of his long time friend and father figure sounded around him, and he somehow managed to hesitantly inch forward and peek out the top. And leaning over the gap he saw…Alfred. His mouth dropped (-Pick ourselves back up-) and he watched as the older man motioned something to the other men and was lowered down to him (-his father was dropping down next to him, and he's asking Bruce what to do when he falls down-). He glanced around and immediately shot backwards into the Tumbler when he saw the killing block (-and Ras as he lies to him and stabs him and burns down the only thing he has left of his parents-). Another moan came from the heavy metal and it buckled forward some more, leaving Bruce with only a foot of clearance at the most to escape. His was panicking and getting claustrophobic and panicking and remembering and panicking and crying and panicking and-

"Bruce!" the call shocked him out of his dazed state of fear and he whipped his head up to stare out the small space to see…Alfred (-pick ourselves back up… I give a crap because a very good man trusted me with the thing most important to him… you do have limit…, what we stand for… have to do with you… accomplice… never gonna give up on you… more than just bricks and mortar-).

"Come on master Bruce…Why do we fall?" Bruce stared at the butler (-butler, father, brother, friend, shoulder to cry on, someone he could yell at, and then apologize, teacher, doctor, family-), incredulity dancing in his eyes as he slowly inches forward, flinching a little when the Tumbler bent inwards even more.

"So that we learn to pick ourselves up. And master Bruce, you can pick yourself up. You just need to get out of this hole and see the light of day." If Bruce thought the speech was cheesy later, he believed it was the most legit thing he'd ever heard in his life then. He scrambled out just as the roof of the Tumbled smashed inwards, and the vigilante could see the rocks that had been crushing it. He was backing against something, and with a yell, he jumped back towards the rubble pile when he saw the metal killing block, guillotine block, gallows block, death block. Alfred grabbed him and twisted him around so that he stared into the white-haired man's eyes.

"Bruce, that is not a killing block. You are not in Tibet, and Ras al Ghoul is dead. No, it is not your fault, nor is it your fault that Rachel is dead, or Harvey is dead, or your parents are dead. You just have some bad luck." (-well, fate had decided to make his whole life a text-book example of bad luck-) Bruce nodded docilely as Alfred stared at him, making sure that he understood what he was saying before clipping a spare hook onto the extra strapped on Bruce's utility belt. The vigilante didn't even notice as they were lifted upwards (-being carried by his father as they rose out of the bat hole, only to die the next day-). The first thing he really registered was the fact that it had stopped raining, and that the sun was just coming up over the tops of the trees that surrounded the road. Sunlight glinted off the wet road and bounced off of the puddles of water to reflect on anything that passed by. He felt Alfred smile next to him as they were pulled over the side of the pit and set down on solid land (-he's being dragged over the edge until he digs his gauntlets into the ice and stops himself. They're both sliding over the edge of a glass roof, and he spreads a wing, forcing them to land on a cab, he's on platform of 250 52nd, and he's launching himself over the side, taking Harvey and the kid with him, and the kid is his responsibility-he's Gordon's kid, so he swings the boy onto the platform and then lets go-). He stumbled a little, before staggering onto the road, staggering past it, staggering through the woods, ignoring the way they're yelling after him. He's in the woods, and then he's out of them, on an empty stretch of beach where the sun is sparkling across the calm ocean.

It's peaceful-

Graceful,

Quiet,

Happy,

Alive.

And he wondered how three miles away there could be so much death. There's a feeling of someone tapping his shoulder (-if it's Gordon again, he's going to punch the man-) and he glances over to see Alfred looking at him, tears brimming in his eyes as he sees the confused, but somehow peaceful look on Batman's face.

"No everyone's dead yet. You still have us." He gestures around to the three of them, the three men who have stood by him through everything, and have supported him and believed in him, and had saved him. And they aren't dead.

So that meant everyone wasn't dead.

There was still good.

Hope.

Life.

A reason to keep fighting, because if everyone was dead, he wouldn't be fighting. But they aren't dead. He smiled

warmly at them, and this time, the smile actually reaches his eyes. It's the first time that's happened in eighteen years, since his parents died.

Then he passed out.

As fate would have it, three months later the Penguin called him out.

In an alley.

At night.

On a Monday.

Behind an opera house.

(He made sure to bring Gordon.)

A/N. Sorry if it was short or unsatisfactory. Review and tell me what I should fix, and I'll try to edit it, or just change some parts. Please tell me what you think, all you people.

Thank you SOOOO much for reading all of this, you guys are amazing!

Thx so much!-

TOAS