Bang!
The door flew open. When Bruce returned home, he saw Gordon wheel himself into the kitchen with his only functioning arm and pick up a knife. Bruce, emerging from the bathroom, stared at him in the darkness.
"I'm sorry about your parents." Light returned to Gordon's eyes, making them shine brightly in the dark. "But I did my best."
"No, Uncle, I only said that in anger. You're not a burden, and you can't just, for the sake of not burdening me..."
"No. I just don't want to indulge you anymore." Gordon said, "I suddenly realized something—right is right, and wrong is wrong."
"My guilt toward you doesn't mean you did nothing wrong. The indulgence born from that guilt is what has made you unable to distinguish right from wrong. That is also my only mistake."
Gordon looked at Bruce and said, "I never found the person who killed your parents. If the law finds me guilty, it will sentence me. I don't need you to judge me."
"I failed to save my friends, leaving their child homeless and with nothing. I failed to avenge them as well. If I find myself guilty, I will sentence myself. I don't need you to punish me."
"You have no standing to do any of what you're doing now." Gordon fixed his eyes on Bruce's. "And the only way to correct this mistake is to stop it, to keep you from making one mistake after another."
Bruce stepped forward, but Gordon had already pressed the knife to his own throat. Looking at Bruce with deep nostalgia, he said, "This ends here, Little Bruce. Officer Ge Yin has gathered enough evidence of your crimes. Once we are both dead, the informant will release everything. You have a trial of your own to face