But no matter how effective the potions were, he knew he couldn't rely on them too heavily.
Batman understood this deeply. He had once sworn to his parents that he would make the city better, and until that dream was realized, he couldn't afford to slip into the comfort of false security.
Watching Avery tend to his injuries with practiced skill, Batman couldn't help but recall what Avery had once said to Lucius during their first meeting. Although Avery had no clinical experience, his medical training and degree made him seem highly professional.
It was rumored that Avery had once tracked a pride of lions in Tanzania's Serengeti. Upon investigation, it was confirmed he'd spent time at an animal rescue station there.
Batman mused without expression: maybe he really had considered becoming a vet.
Unaware of Batman's thoughts, Avery's response to Batman's earlier comment was quite indifferent.
"Why tell me this? He's thanking you, not me," Avery said coolly, setting the surgical forceps on the metal counter and pulling out a roll of clean gauze.
"Harvey had acid thrown on him in court." Subsequent analysis had confirmed that Maroni had indeed splashed him with sulfuric acid. According to Harvey's own account, he was so close that half of his face could have been destroyed if it hadn't been for a bat-shaped batarang likely enhanced with a protective charm.
Batman looked intently at his butler. "He said that batarang saved his life."
Avery paused, thought for a moment, and then confirmed it with a nod. "Yes, that was me. I'd pulled him out of the Joker's kidnapping scene and didn't have time to stick around. Since there was a risk he might run into more trouble on the way, and I was in a rush to save others…"
"I gave him a gun and a batarang with a one-time protective shield on it."
He seemed barely affected by this, as if he had forgotten about it long ago.
Batman said, "It seems that Harvey's gratitude was actually meant for you."
"It's unnecessary." Avery remained focused, wrapping the gauze and carefully passing it from Batman's back to his front.
As Batman sat on the table, looking down at him, he suddenly spoke. "I should thank you too."
Avery's hands paused.
"I should thank you for saving Harvey and preventing Gotham from losing a fair and principled district attorney. And for not letting me lose a like-minded ally."
His tone was steady and calm, but it carried an unexpected hint of warmth, as if unintentionally tender.
Hearing what might or might not have been an attempt at affection, Avery didn't look at him at all. Instead, he finished bandaging the wound, then turned with a swish and swiftly exited the Batcave, leaving only a single parting remark: "Even if you say that, I'm still not letting you into my room. Not anytime soon."
At some point, Dick had wandered into the Batcave and now looked at Batman with sympathetic curiosity. "Why would you want to go into Avery's room?"
Batman: "..."
Batman had no intention of answering that, of course. Instead, he fixed his son with a stern look and fired back with a question of his own: "Did you finish your homework? Do you even know what time it is? Don't you have school and training tomorrow?"
Dick: "..."
Caught dead-to-rights, Dick froze, realizing he'd totally forgotten about his homework. Not that this should excuse his adoptive father's blatant deflection, but under that severe gaze, his bravado quickly faltered. In a moment of quiet surrender, he fled the Batcave.
Notably, the biggest talking point in the aftermath of Maroni's courtroom assault wasn't his brazen attack or Harvey's narrow escape. Instead, Gotham's underworld buzzed with a new rumor: that Batman was actually some sort of bat spirit.
This rumor had been ignited by Harvey's courtroom display of the mysterious batarang, coupled with testimony from every witness in the room.
Dick, of course, found this idea completely absurd. He'd seen Batman up close—there was no way he was a "bat spirit"! Such a claim was pure slander!
The adults, however, seemed unbothered by the gossip. Batman himself even appreciated it, considering the wild rumor an excellent cover that further protected his real identity.
The sadness of humanity is seldom shared.
While Dick furiously caught up on his homework, Batman took the opportunity to knock on Avery's door. Of course, Avery hadn't given him a key, but Batman had managed to procure a spare from his former butler.
With Alfred's disapproving stare on him, Batman cleared his throat. "I'm going to make things right with him."
Alfred scrutinized the expressionless face in front of him, considering for a moment. He concluded that if his young employer really didn't want Bruce in the room, a key alone wouldn't be enough to grant him entry. Deciding to leave the choice up to Avery, he stepped aside.
When Batman unlocked the door and stepped inside, he was met by Avery's cool, disapproving stare from above.
"What are you here for?" Avery asked.
Batman replied, "I came to make amends."
Avery responded icily, "Put the gift down and then leave."
In the face of this blatant dismissal, Batman calmly extended a hand and unbuttoned two buttons on his suit, revealing his solid chest. His gaze took on a trace of tenderness as he looked up at his butler, briefly resurrecting the long-lost charm of Gotham's beloved Bruce Wayne.
Avery's grip on the door relaxed ever so slightly at the sight.
Bruce said softly, "Well then, you'll have to let me in so I can deliver the gift properly."
Avery gave him a long, unreadable look.
The door closed, and there was no one left in the hallway.
What happened next remained a mystery to everyone else. By the time Dick finished his homework and rushed off to school early the next morning, the reliable old butler was still waiting, until finally, in the afternoon, he managed to locate the two who had been "missing" in the room all morning.
No one knew Bruce better than Avery did. While Avery might be cold, his detachment was never as strong when facing certain people; thus, what had begun as a cold war ended with surprising ease and intimacy.
Bruce thought that with this, things would come to a comfortable close. He believed that one day Avery would open his heart to him fully—that there was no need to rush or do anything that might push him away again.
But Gotham was not a place where plans survived. This city, suspended over a chasm, cursed and unforgiving, never let anyone off easily, least of all those who dared to change it.
Soon after, Bruce received grim news from Harvey. This time, Gotham's district attorney hadn't been as lucky.
Half of Harvey's face was nearly destroyed, a brutal disfigurement that triggered a latent psychological disorder.
Harvey Dent had developed dissociative identity disorder.
And all of this was thanks to a group that had once only existed in urban legend:
The Court of Owls.