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Jason,

I'm not good at talking to people, but of course you know that. Everytime we have a conversation over five minutes, it's a breifing on a mission. Well, everytime we had a conversation. I'm sorry that we never talked like we should have. I'm sorry that I let you get killed. I'm sorry I kept the truth from you, and it cost you your life. There is so much I'm sorry for, Jason, and I can't actually say so. I'm sorry I drug you into the hero game. It's not a game at all, really. It's a gun fight, and I sent you into the middle of it with a knife.

I'm going to tell you a story about a boy. He was nine when he lost his parents, and was left in the care of his butler, in a large house that the two of them were forced to live in by themselves. The boy grew up emotionless. He had lost most of his life in one night before his eyes, and then he went off into the world to learn to fight, and to learn the hard truth; life isn't a game that you can play everyday. Life is hard. He trained himself physically and mentally to become a creature of the night, a creature which he feared as a child. A bat.

I became an emotionless monster, Jason, and I didn't show any real pride in you, or Dick, or Tim, but I feel proud of you all. I wished I had the chance to put my hand on your shoulder, look you in the eyes, and tell you that you became a very honorable man. But I lost that chance when I kept the identity of your mother from you. Your death is on my hands, Jason, and I wish I could have prevented it. I wish that I could have taken the beating for you. I wish I died instead. You could have stayed with Dick, and Tim, and Alfred, and Babs and you would be happy at the manor. Dick would get you guys to settle down, eventually, and you'd start a family, have a few kids, and live there with your brothers and your niece and nephews. Eventually, you'd be a grandfather and die a happy, normal death because that's what you deserve. You deserve a life.

There aren't enough letters in the alphabet, enough words in the English language, to tell you how proud I am of you. And how sorry I am that I couldn't save you. I love you, Jason. I had it put on your headstone. Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend. Honored hero. I'm sad nobody can know you're a hero. I'm happy I got the chance to train you, Jason, and I'm happy to call you my son.

Your Caped Guardian

Bruce