Chapter Text
By the time Hal reached the wreckage, Batman was gone.
He fought through the chaos, saving civilians, stopping the fires, but in the back of his mind, something was gnawing at him. He kept replaying that moment, the flicker of Batman's ghostly image in his mind.
When the dust settled, he returned to the Batcave. The place was dark—empty—no sign of Batman.
"Oracle?" Hal called out, his voice echoing through the cave.
Barbara's voice came through, sharp and distant. "He's gone, Hal."
Hal froze. "Gone? What do you mean gone?"
"He died," Barbara said softly. "He died weeks ago."
Hal's heart dropped. The ground seemed to tilt beneath him. "No.. no. That's impossible. He's.. he's still out there. He's still helping."
Barbara was silent for a long time. Then, quietly, she added, "I thought you might've figured it out. He's been with you.. but not in the way you think. He's been a ghost, Hal. A part of him.. never left."
Hal's hands trembled as he clutched his ring. He could still feel Batman's presence in his mind, the weight of those hollow eyes, the touch of his cold, phantom form.
"I'm sorry," Barbara whispered. "But you have to let go."
Hal stood there, frozen, the weight of the truth crashing down on him. Batman was dead. And he had never even known it.
But Hal didn't know how to let go.
Not when Bruce had never really said goodbye. Not when his ghost was still out there whispering in the dark.