Ghosts

Today was just a regular day, that shouldn't have held any meaning whatsoever to him.

He wasn't sure why exactly he was here, especially after all that had transpired between them over the course of 40 years. Betrayal after betrayal, scheme after scheme, setback after setback, and yet here he was.

At his sworn enemy's grave.

But really...were they truly enemies?

Or just brothers that due to the acts of one madman, were separated by an invisible wall of sadness, hate, and regret that prevented them from seeing eye to eye ever again?

To be honest, he still to this day did not know.

"I guess that makes two of us then."

He could remember the look on his face when he drove his arm through that bastard's chest, the maniacal cackles of laughter still rung through his ears. And once again, he was haunted.

That quick.

That easy.

Eventually, things came to a head. Mirror images from another universe were called upon to stop him, he, who at that time, was to blinded by that very same wall that divided him from his brother.

He thought he was doing the right thing all along, by avenging those that were lost so long ago. Lois, and their child, gone.

Nothing could bring them back, he understood that now. Sure, a hundred years have passed since that great war that nearly devastated the world over, but he wasn't a moment too late, nor soon.

He just came to an epiphany, out of the blue, that he didn't need the memory of Lois and their would be child anymore to continue his mission. It hadn't been the foundation for his life before her death, and for far too long, he had let it rule over him. So if he could live without her before, he just had to now.

"I wish I could have stopped it all before all of...you know what. I'm not here to say you were right all along, nor am I here to tell you how wrong you were either, and don't think that in my head it isn't vice versa. I know I wasn't right, I get it now...I guess, I'm here to just say..."

He took out an old JL communicator of ages passed. Back when things were simpler, and he wasn't the man he was today. There were more sins to atone for, and understood that Earth wasn't home to a race that just simply forgets, but he was okay with that. Redemption is indeed a lonely, yet rewarding road. Whether now, he's just a wanderer, or a roaming hero that doesn't limit himself to one place at a time, it didn't matter. Those were just labels and classifications.

He didn't need that.

"The past is a ghost. Ghosts can't move on. I've been there, before. You seen it, the look in my eyes, where I could barely contain myself. And I felt as if I had just woke up yesterday from that hundred year nightmare. I tried to break your back, and I'm guessing I did, but knowing you, you didn't stay down for long. I hear you had a remedy for those, and Rao knows it wasn't the first time someone tried to do that to you."

A small laugh escaped his lips, "You were always prepared. For anything. Yet why, my friend, why...couldn't you just kill me. I thought you would be prepared to do so, that for a friend, even for one that committed as much evil as I, you could put aside our one rule that binded us together so long ago, and just kill me. It would have been mercy, you could have saved yourself the trouble. But I guess that's what made you the better man back then, or maybe not. You knew I wanted death, yet you wouldn't grant it, you just let me keep going, knowing I wouldn't stop until you dropped for good. But why? Why did you have to push yourself so hard? Why couldn't you just do what had to be done? *Sigh* I guess that's just the theme of our little tale eh? Wanting to do what was necessary, but ultimately failing..."

He dropped down to one knee, and rubbed his hand along the northern ridge of the lavish tombstone, that just refused to wither away, much like the man that rested underneath it. Scanning the name, the date of birth, and the date he ended, he long ago turned off his emotions, but bit by bit, he allowed himself to heal, just a little bit more each time.

"I know a little something of that though. We all do, it's what binded us together. Our duty."

He let the communicator go. Letting it fall and sink in to the soil, soon enough, this grave would swallow it whole.

"Goodbye, Bruce." He just about whispered to his dead friend, in hopes he could hear him.

"Mommy, whose that man?" A little girl pointed at the tall, young and well built man that stood over and placed something by Bruce Wayne's grave.

The mother looked over from her dead husband's grave the next row over but found no one there, "There's no one there sweety, maybe you're just tired."

"No mommy, I seen a man, oh! Maybe it was a ghost."