Born to Fly

Epilogue

Gotham's streets are pouring with blood. There's no stopping it. The city is a leviathan of darkness. It's cruel, evil, and unfair to those who play its sick game. Sera is no different.

I'm not spared, either. My punishment must be surviving. I indulge in bloodshed and greed and I am continually sentenced to living. Well, no more. I refuse to play this game.

"Sera hated funerals, so I'll keep hers short."

I don't understand how her brother has gathered the strength to speak. Even as he reads from a single index card, the tip of Jim's nose turns pink. Sorrow drips from the corners of his eyes that he refuses to acknowledge.

I haven't spoken a word since she died. I haven't been able to even get out of bed. Ed's staying at the mansion to make sure I stay alive, for whatever reason. He helped move Sera's belongings into her old room. They're ready for me, whenever I summon the power to go through it all.

I can't even muster the strength to breathe.

The chilly breeze wisps through the cemetery. Summer has ended. Winter is on our heels. How fitting that she would die so close to a season of famine and darkness. The universe must be having a go at me. I hope it's appeased soon.

A small round of applause is heard from the few invited guests. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Falcone, Harvey Dent and Bullock, Captain Barnes, Loren, Barbara, Dr. Thompkins, Butch, Bruce Wayne, Selina, Mr. Pennyworth, and Jim, of course. Edward stands on my other side. I think I also make our her extended family and some old hospital co-workers.

I believe it's my turn to say something, for all eyes simultaneously turn on me. They wait with bated breath for me to inevitably fail. In the heat of the moment, I want to scream in their faces and run until I can't stop. But that's socially unacceptable, isn't it?

Instead, I don't give them what they seek. My orbs remain trained on her tombstone— her tombstone. Such a thought is enough to crack my shoulders and chisel away at what little heart I have left. Mother's death made me cruel. Sera's death has broken me entirely.

I should've told her I loved her. Why didn't I beg her to stay with me? If she'd only held on for moments longer, she would've heard the sound of ambulance sirens. Help was so close. Why didn't I do more to keep her awake?

The funeral breaks in silence. Gradually, people begin to disperse or whisper amongst themselves. Not I, though. I don't move a single inch until I'm specifically spoken to.

"Look, Oswald." It's Jim. He rests a hand on my shoulder. "Take it from your almost brother-in-law—"

I snap. "We weren't married, James."

I was planning on asking her. The ring is still in my pocket. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I just knew that I couldn't go one more day without having Sera as mine, forever. Yet here I am. Somehow surviving without her.

"Do you think she would've said no if you asked? You were her whole life, Cobblepot. She would've done anything for you."

Anything but stay alive.

"What, Jim? What do you want to tell me?"

Her older brother sighs deeply. "Talk to somebody. You've been through too much to handle on your own. See a therapist."

My weepy irises roll. "No offense, but I'm way past that."

"Then think about inpatient care," Lee Thompkins says from his side. "It's just for a little while. You'll be able to grieve without the distraction of the world. You're allowed to check yourself out at any time. Nothing you say in the hospital can be used against you in a court of law."