John Blake Uh, he doesn't know or care who you are; but we've met before. It was a long time ago, I was a kid. Saint Swithin's used to be funded by the Wayne foundation; it was an orphanage. My mom died when I was small; it was a car accident, I don’t really remember it. But, uh, my dad got shot a couple years later over a gambling debt. And I remember that one just fine. Not a lot people know what if feels like to, uh, be angry... in your bones. I mean, they understand, your foster parents, everybody else understands... for a while. But then they want the angry little kid to do something he knows he can’t do. Move on. So, after awhile, they stop understanding. They send the angry kid to a boys home. I figured it out too late. You got to learn to hide the anger. Practice smiling in the mirror. It's like putting on a mask. So, you showed up this one day in a cool car, pretty girl on your arm. We were so excited! Bruce Wayne; billionaire orphan! I mean, we use to make up stories about you, man. Legends. And, you know, with the other kids, that's all it was, just stories, but... right when I saw you, I knew who you really were. I'd seen that look on your face before. It was the same one I taught myself. I don't know why you took the fall for Dent's murder, but I'm still a believer in the Batman. Even if you're not.
