More than a week has passed since Batman's return.
So far, so good: B. has not gone out every single night; closer to every other one. The times he stays in, he works just as hard--and I am right by his side, uncomfortable with this shift in my role but willing to assume it in the service of a greater good.
And I do believe there is a higher purpose in all of this, one that involves not just him now but me as well.
Alfred assures me I have been lucky so far, that the worst is yet to come. B. has focused his attention on smalltime crooks, muggers, street trash. Nothing major, and no major battle wounds yet. But the moment he faces a truly powerful adversary, all of that will change. I try to brace myself for the inevitable.
I look at him in that suit and I wish to hell he never had to leave the Cave.