Robert (Bobby to those who knew him as a child) Brown feels like he has nothing left to do anymore, nothing to achieve with his life. He spent 5 years working his ass off doing dangerous criminal jobs trying to save Grandpa John, and now he has no idea what to do with himself now that that purpose is just… gone.
He can’t really get a normal job to occupy his time, he has no non criminal work experience. Is he supposed to put down his extensive experience henching for the Penguin on his resume? That wouldn’t work out, even in a city as weird as Gotham. It’s not like he needs the money anymore either, he was saving up 3 million dollars for a supertech cancer cure for Grandpa, and then Grandpa dies just before he could save enough. If he moves midwest or south where the cost of living was cheaper, he could last a looooooong time on those savings.
He really should move out of Gotham, it’s a hellhole, a dangerous hellhole, filled with masked freaks doing terrorist attacks roughly once a month. But it’s his hellhole, he grew up here, he buried both his parents here, and just buried his grandpa here. Leaving would feel like giving up on the place, and like giving up on his neighbours and what few family connections he has left. A stubborn part of him wants to stick things out in Gotham even if at any time some insane nutjob could spike the water supply with fear toxin, again.
Robert goes to check the mail instead of maudlin about the future, the amount of condolences cards trickling in from old friends of grandpa John is forming a tall stack on the kitchen table, and Robert fully expects to find more of them in the mailbox.