He wasn't expecting an answer, and didn't get one. But that's OK. Because even as he said it, he knows it wouldn't change anything. He can't not be Batman. Without that - even if it's something that fails completely - without that, he's really nothing. Just useless.
The guy at the table shifts in his chair, and Bruce realises all the seats are the same - straight-backed, with armrests, for ease of getting in and out of. A tremor of fear grips him, but he refuses to dwell on it. It'll be worth it. It will.
He can't drag his gaze away though. And he can't decide if what he's feeling is horror, or nothing at all. This just is. He doesn't feel anything but inevitability, right at this moment.
But eventually, he says, 'we can go now.' Still watching himself.
And thinking, maybe, that it might be the only time he sees himself like this. Hopefully. But if it isn't, at least he will have tried.
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The guy at the table shifts in his chair, and Bruce realises all the seats are the same - straight-backed, with armrests, for ease of getting in and out of. A tremor of fear grips him, but he refuses to dwell on it. It'll be worth it. It will.
He can't drag his gaze away though. And he can't decide if what he's feeling is horror, or nothing at all. This just is. He doesn't feel anything but inevitability, right at this moment.
But eventually, he says, 'we can go now.' Still watching himself.
And thinking, maybe, that it might be the only time he sees himself like this. Hopefully. But if it isn't, at least he will have tried.