The well was closed off.

In the burned remains of Wayne Manor, Bruce hammered wood over the old well, burying his fears for good. The only reminder left was the mark on his neck.

Salem had taught him how to control his emotions, and how to confront his fears head-on. A week had past since she had died, and still he wished he could have saved her. Even after everything she had done, every time he remembered watching that train fall down below, taking Salem with it, he felt just as helpless to save her as he did then.

But it had finally come to an end. It was as if he had been on a journey ever since falling into this well, and it had all ended when that train fell. His mission to save Vale as still far from over, but he couldn't help feeling as though he'd come to the end of a seemingly endless journey.

He stood up, backing away from the well. He turned around to head back to the ruins of the manor, only to see Weiss approaching him.

She gazed at him, now knowing exactly what had changed. As she gazed at him, she felt a mix of emotions. She felt confused, proud, and of course happy to see him. Somehow she was looking at the man she loved, and yet it was no longer possible to see him as the same man who left Vale years ago.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Weiss," Bruce said.

"No," Weiss cut him off, shaking her head. "No, I'm sorry, Bruce. That night, I . . . I said some things."

"True things. Justice is much more than revenge. What you told me that night . . . it brought me out of the darkness. It showed me a world beyond my own. So thank you."

Weiss blushed at his words. She smiled, nodding.

"Of course," she said. "You were in a dark place, Bruce, and I . . . I loved you too much to let you stay like that. When you left, I never stopped looking for you. Even when you were presumed dead, I kept looking. Giving up was the most painful decision I ever made. And when I heard you were back, I . . . I was starting to . . . to hope . . ."

She was losing her ability to speak, having trouble getting the words out. Bruce stepped up to her, and he pulled her into a kiss. It was unexpected, but she made no hesitation to kiss back. The sensation of their lips connecting was amazing, and filled them with a happiness they had never felt before.

They separated, and there was a clear difference in their reactions to the kiss. Bruce controlled the swirl of emotions he was feeling inside, keeping his composure. Weiss was having much more trouble keeping her cool, taking deep breaths to slow her heartbeat.

It broke her heart to continue.

"But then I found out about your mask."

"Batman is just a symbol, Weiss."

"No," Weiss shook her head. She placed her hand against his cheek. "No, this is your mask. The man I loved never came back. He is a mask for your true face. The face criminals are afraid of."

Bruce knew where this is going, and he stayed silent, respecting her opinion enough to let her continue.

"But maybe he's still out there somewhere. Maybe, someday, when Vale no longer needs Batman, I'll see him again."

Bruce nodded. "I understand."

He reached for her hand, and grasped it tight. The two walked back to the ruins of the mansion, hands interlocked.

Seeing the manor as a burned shadow of its former self was painful to look at. Only a few days ago, he had been uncomfortable in that house, only staying in it to keep his disguise. But now, he wished he could see his bedroom again. He wished he could see that kitchen. He wished he could explore the home his parents had loved so much one more time.

He picked up Ruby's old cape, which he had set down on the charred remains of a table, and placed it in the suitcase. He was glad he kept it in the Batcave. He didn't want to lose this.

He searched through the rubble to find more things to pack in his bag. He found the photo he'd watched burn of his parents standing side-by-side, with a smile he thought was directed towards him. The photo was burned, but not destroyed entirely.

"You proved me wrong, you know?" Weiss said.

Bruce turned to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"Your parents would be proud of you. Just like me."

Bruce smiled, and nodded, pulling the picture out of the frame. He put it in the bag, and looked for one more thing.

He found the remains of an old case. He picked it up, and the hinges broke, causing it to fall apart. But inside, he could still see the remains of the stethoscope. The headset was burned but intact, but the diaphragm was disconnected from the rest.

Bruce pulled the stethoscope out, and smiled as the memories came back again.

A young Bruce Wayne pushed the diaphragm against his father's chest. Thomas held his hand, watching for his son's reaction. The younger Wayne waited to hear his heartbeat. It took a moment, but once the thumping came to his ears, he looked up at his father with a look of excitement.

Bruce smiled at the memory, wishing he could go back to the more simple days. But this was who he was now, and there was no changing that.

"What will you do?" Weiss asked.

Bruce paused, thinking over his answer. He had spent too much time throwing his family name into the dirt. It was time he did something to make them proud.

"Rebuild it," he said, smiling at Weiss. "Just the way it was, brick-for-brick."

Weiss nodded, and turned to leave, while Bruce brought the stethoscope to his bag. He zipped it up, looking over the ruins of the house. His house.

"Just the way it was . . ."