The Shadow That Still Loves
Wayne Manor – One Week Later
Peter sat on the rooftop just before dawn, legs pulled up, hoodie drawn over his head. The skyline glowed orange at the edges, Gotham slow to wake. Below, the sounds of a city pretending it wasn’t cracked hummed softly.
He held a photo in his hand.
It was creased at the edges. Faded. Two boys — him and Damian — muddy from sparring, arms around each other. Behind them stood Talia, a rare smile on her lips. She looked… young. Proud. Whole.
Peter ran his thumb across her face, then folded the photo and tucked it away.
Damian approached quietly. He didn’t speak. Just sat beside him.
Peter finally broke the silence. “I told her I loved her.”
Damian nodded. “I know.”
“I meant it.”
“I know that too.”
Peter stared down at his hands. “She let me go, Dami. I didn’t think she would. I thought I’d see the Pit in her eyes again. But she… she just let me walk away.”
Damian was quiet for a long moment before replying.
“That’s because she loved you too. In her own… twisted way.”
Peter smiled, bitter and aching. “I feel lighter. But also like something’s missing.”
“Yeah,” Damian said quietly. “That’s healing.”
⸻
Gotham – Rooftops, Midnight
Talia stood on a ledge far above the manor. She had no intention of approaching. Not now. Not again.
But she watched.
Peter was out on the balcony, working through kata forms. Slow, precise, breathing steady. His posture was different now — grounded. Not rigid. Not trained to obey, but chosen to live.
He didn’t know she was there.
She didn’t want him to.
Ubu stepped beside her silently. “You could speak to him.”
“I already said my goodbye,” she said softly. “He’s building something now. Something that doesn’t need me in it.”
“He still loves you.”
Talia smiled faintly, eyes never leaving Peter. “That’s why I won’t touch him. Not again.”
A gust of wind lifted her cloak. She turned away from the manor, slipping into the shadows.
“Let him become who he was meant to be.”