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A silent graveyard, enveloped in a light fog, found itself host to an empty grave and a strange variety of visitors. Some came in costume, some in suit and tie or dresses, some heroes, some villains, some civilians, all here for the same reason. They nod to each other as they pass, the temporary truce firmly in place for the sake of the one they had come to visit. In silence, they walk towards the lone hill with a towering red oak tree, its flaming red foliage slowly falling from the tree as autumn began to turn into winter. Below the tree, just to the left of its trunk, was a simple gravestone. The words carved on it were etched with care, the rest of the stone left smooth, polished to shimmer in the fractured sunlight that reached through the oak’s canopy. The inscription read:
Kevin Conroy
November 30, 1955 - November 10, 2022
Beloved actor and voice of an icon.
Gone, but not forgotten.
The first to approach the grave was Mr Freeze, a small flurry of snow accompanying him. He knelt down to place a flower on the grave, a snowbell, and spoke in that strange, modulated voice he had.
“You… You were the one who gave voice to my foe. You– yes, you were the one who gave voice to a moment of kindness.”
He remembered that moment all too clearly. The moment he had been found by Batman at the grave of his wife, the snow covering the ground in a massive quilt as fresh flurries fell like autumn leaves. After rising to his feet, he bowed his head towards the gravestone and said “Goodbye.”
As he walked away, the massive crowd parted, clearing the way, still silent. Everyone would get their goodbye in peace, and then they would be allowed to leave. It didn’t matter what had been done in the past, or if they were actively wanted for crimes, because today was not about that. Today was about him. As the snowy flurries vanished in Mr Freeze’s absence, the next person strode forward. His suit was perfectly halved, split between a solemn, sleek, black, and a stunning, textured, white. Two-Face stepped up, face in as solemn a frown as he could muster, as the gravestone grew closer. Half of him expected this to be a trap, there was no way this icon could truly be dead after all, while the other half was certain this could not be a trap. This death couldn’t have been faked, and no one, hero or otherwise, would have dared to use it just to capture someone, even if that someone was of Two-Face’s caliber. He dropped a pair of roses, one black and one white, next to the snowbell, and stared down at the grave. It was empty, of course, since Kevin Conroy was not a part of Two-Face’s world, at least, not physically.
“So, you’re really gone?” He asked, his voice strong yet nearly silent. “You don’t have a secret twin do you? Or a clone? Or… well, anyone that might pop up and turn out to be you?” Silence was his only answer, not that he completely expected something or someone to actually answer. “Well, then, this is goodbye. Thanks for the fun, and the fights. They won’t be the same without you.” With those words, the loss became more real. Two-Face felt silent tears falling down half of his face, while the other half desperately clung to some form of stoic dignity. He swiftly walked away, half hoping no one noticed the tears, half hoping they appreciated the duality, and vanished into the fog behind the parted crowd.
The crowd shifted, and a small, doll-like person strode confidently towards the grave. Baby Doll had to speak, to reach out to someone she had known who had shown her kindness in her lowest moment. Sure, it may have been Batman physically there, and she had made sure to repay that kindness at least a little, but there was another there, one who acted as the Dark Knight’s voice and the light in the darkness.
“You really did help, you know?” She said, tears threatening to fall. Just as he had promised. He had been chasing her, trying to stop her from causing harm, but he didn’t try to hurt her. Instead, he had said he only wanted to help. And he did, in the end. “I hope, wherever you are, you’re happy.” She gently put down a lily, then turned and walked away.
This time, a pair walked forward, hands clutched, before the redhead gave the blonde a kiss on her knuckles and sent her ahead. Harley Quinn let the tears fall freely.
“Say it isn’t so, Mistah K! We need ya!” She gently laid a snapdragon at the base of the gravestone, before reaching out to touch the inscription. As her fingers traced over each letter, she let out a sob, and said “Good luck out there, we’ll miss ya!”
She rose, swiftly turning around and racing to reach her friend, trading places as she wept. Ivy stepped up, eyes softening with grief as she read the words inscribed on the stone. She crouched down, hand hovering over the empty patch of grass in between the gifted flowers, and concentrated. With a soft hum, one only she could hear, a beautiful purple bearded iris bloomed. “A gift, for you darling. Rest in peace in that great garden beyond.” With one last look at the gravestone, and her offering, she walked back towards the crowd, collected Harley in her arms, and the duo made their way out into the fog.
On and on this went until the crowd had thinned considerably. Heroes stepped up, offered a flower, sometimes some words, while some said nothing but let their grief and thoughts pass their message along. Villains, normally so volatile and hostile towards each other, patiently awaited their turn to say goodbye, while showing begrudging signs of respect for each other. Some villains could get along, some even got together to play cards from time to time, but others were uninterested, or unwilling to enjoy some sort of down time, but even these villains could set aside their own wishes to say farewell and allow others the chance to do so in peace. Even the Gotham Police Department had shown up in force, not for a fight, but to give their condolences and offer some words to the lost legend. Time passed, until only three people were left.
The first of these three, Harvey Bullock, Lieutenant in the Gotham PD, frowned in discomfort, mouth twitching as he thought to himself.
“Sorry for all the trouble in the beginning, Mr Conroy. I suppose I just got a bit ahead of myself. Thanks for not holding it against me. I love your voice.” He laughed softly to himself, reminiscent but also uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t really do this–” he gestured to the gravestone and himself “-much, so I’m not quite sure what to say. I… I hope you’re doing alright over there, you deserve the best, alright?” He set down a yellow carnation, slightly squashed from its time spent in his large, calloused hands, saluted the gravestone, then turned and walked away. As he passed Commissioner Jim Gordan, he nodded to the man, then left the graveyard behind.
Jim Gordan stepped up next, sighing as the weight of his grief rushed through him. “It really is real…” he muttered to himself, reaching out a hand to touch the smooth, marble stone. He pulled the blue morning glory out of his lapel and laid it gently on the ground next to Ivy’s iris. “You were spectacular. It was an honour to work with you, and I hope you enjoyed working with us.” Clicking his heels together, Jim Gordan saluted the most proper salute he could muster, using the strength behind it to fight back the tears pricking at his eyes. After taking a deep breath, he turned around and walked away from the empty grave. As he glanced towards the shadow of a large, ornate gravestone, he nodded and said “All clear, it’s your turn.” Flashing a short smile, he vanished into the fog.
Out of the shadows, Batman appeared, his cape moving like a shadow itself, and made his way towards the gravestone. He placed a gloved hand on the top of the gravestone, head bowed, and thought back on all that had happened. This man had been part of the driving force of his life, especially his time as Batman. Because of Kevin Conroy, Batman, at least this Batman, existed and thrived. Their time had seemed both endless and entirely too short. Batman reached into his utility belt and pulled out a beautiful, black flower, known as Onyx Odyssey Helleborus. Its stark contrast to the bright surroundings seemed appropriate, and beautiful. Batman remained silent, thinking about anything he could possibly say that would properly express what Kevin Conroy had meant to him. Finally, he spoke. "Thank you for giving me my voice." Satisfied, he turned and vanished into the shadows once more. As the leaves fell from the red oak tree, and the flowers fluttered in the breeze, the grave seemed to glow with a light. If one looked closely, they could almost see Kevin there, smiling at the gifts, and waving to the passersby.