Captive

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the unknown women who appear later on.

The rain was pouring down hard. Bruce didn't notice the rain nor the wind beating against his weathered body. The only significant thing he could focus on at the moment was a single drop of blood running off of his finger. Bruce had removed his glove after he had felt the bullet tear through his chest. HE wanted to feel the wound with his own human hand to register its authenticity. He was gazing down at the Kevlar meant "to stop anything except a straight shot" as Fox once told him. Too close for the bullet to veer off of its course. Everything was too close to Bruce now. He leaned his head against the now bloodstained wall and tried to breathe. Where exactly did he stand? His feeble voice tried to communicate with Alfred.

"Alfred", he whispered into his cowl. There was no response except for static. Bruce began to panic. This had to be the 7th time he tried to contact Alfred and there was no response. Did the madman who shot him during the robbery intervention get Alfred too? Most likely not, but Bruce had lost so much blood while seeking help for nearly an hour now that he didn't know what to think anymore. Maybe Rachael. … if only he could find a way to get to her….some kind of a sign…Bruce felt his mind slipping into darkness when a familiar voice called to him.

"Batman? Batman can you hear me?"

Bruce looked to his savior. It was Jim Gordon. Good old Jim. Jim would help him. Bruce still dressed as Batman but no longer comprehending his situation fully, grabbed Jim's arm roughly, afraid and panicked.

"Call my father please, sir. I need to talk to my father. He can help me." Bruce leaned his weary head back to rest.

"He always knows what to do."

Jim stared down at the face and voice protruding from the man who bred fear in everyone's heart, even Jim Gordon's, only to see a man on the brink of breaking down. Jim held onto Batman's arm tighter.

"Let me see your wound, OK?"

Bruce withdrew his arm from Gordon who kept his hand outstretched.

"It's Ok Batman. I 'm not going to hurt you. "

After a moment of hesitation, Batman allowed his arm to drop to his side giving Gordon access. Gordon realized for the first time since Batman's emergence within the past year that this was the first time he had seen the man ungloved. Jim was holding the Kevlar but staring at the bare hand of the Batman. He noticed, all the while checking out the bullet wound, that the Batman's hand was rough, but had well manicured nails? Gordon put that thought to the back burner when he suddenly became aware of another presence in the alley. The trash cans clanged slightly causing Gordon to reach for his gun unlocking the safety. Bruce saw Gordon's movement and in his delusional state reached for the gun breathing a heavy "No!" causing the gun to fire in the holster. Gordon was thrown back by the blast causing him to fall into unconsciousness.

Bruce watched his hero, the man who was about to save him for a second time, lying motionless on the ground while the rats scurried at his feet. Bruce tried to edge his way over to Gordon to make sure his friend was still alive. What had just happened? Bruce was lost in the past with alley ways and bullets when he reached for it out of instinct of self preservation not even realizing that Gordon would never hurt him. Things were becoming hazier. As Bruce finally reached Gordon he was surprised to see him moving away from his fingers, being dragged by an unseen force. Bruce stopped trying to catch his last breathes as he saw another pair of feet before his eyes. Batman looked up to see a mass of burlap laced with a smile of venom.

"Hello Batman."

Bruce began to pull away only to feel a knock to his head and blackness following.

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Gordon awoke with a blinding headache. He sat up shaking his head trying to realize for a moment where he was. The alley…the stench of grime and corruption…Batman. Gordon stood up attempting to avoid the dizziness that followed. Batman was gone. A trail of blood could be seen ending abruptly. A truck or something must have taken him away. God, how am I supposed to find him now? Gordon thought, about to reach for his gun which was lying on the ground when he realized something. Gordon ripped off part of his shirt gently encasing the gun in it. This was now his only link to finding the Batman. When he had touched Gordon's gun with his bear hands, he left fingerprints. Gordon saw something else in the streetlight. He bent down to the ground and removed the bloody glove that was the Bat's. This was DNA. He would finally learn who the Batman was so he could save him and bring him home.

Bruce awoke to darkness. He found himself breathing again with some effort but not like before. The smell of blood was missing and his wound didn't ache as much. He wanted to turn and see if the bullet had been a clean shot when he realized that his body couldn't move. His arms were mounted to the wall by chains as well as his legs. Bruce pulled and twisted hoping to be released, but to no avail. The air was brisk. Bruce had been left with no shoes on so his feet felt every stone on the barren floor. His bare chest caught every draft that slept through the cracks. The only piece of clothing Bruce could feel remaining on his body was a pair of long loose fitting pants. That meant that one other important piece of clothing was also missing: the cowl. He was nearly naked and left for whomever his captor was to see. Bruce lingered for a few more moments in this reverie when a bright light suddenly revealed his place of capture. Once Bruce' eyes adjusted, he could see that the cell held few comforts of home. It had no windows and a few pairs of chains on the wall. There was a single bed in the middle of the room, headboard pushed against the wall. There was also what looked like a rusting bathroom across the way. Bruce gathered his bearings immediately trying to think of a way out. As his mind raced and his faced looked around the room, he saw two familiar eyes staring back at him. Bruce pulled on the chains in anger.

"How did they know who you were?" He whispered in desperation.

Bruce continued in anger to yank on the chains that bound him but to no avail. He grew weary after having lost so much blood the day or two days before? He had lost all concept of time.

"I brought him here for your company," a voice quipped.

"I knew that the great Bruce Wayne would need his butler here to help him with …certain things…" the voice trailed off.

Bruce turned to face Alfred who was bound on the floor, his hands and feet chained. His eyes met Bruce's as he gave a nod. Bruce was just coming to terms with the fact that his loyal friend had been kidnapped for his sake when another voice broke the silence.

"Let me go!" A young woman was pushed hard to the floor. Her long hair whipped about her face in anger.

"You pricks. I will get you for this."

Bruce saw two beautiful women scantily clothed walk away after disposing of Rachael, his beloved Rachael. No, this can't be happening. It must be some sort of effect from a toxin of some kind. He had been through this before several times over the past year. Rachael and Alfred were safe and home…

"It's not all bad, Bruce," a voice interrupted his reasoning. " I did care for you after you were shot. I mean," he paused. "What are doctors for anyway?"

Bruce closed his eyes gently as Crane's laughter filled the room with an eerie echo. God help them all.

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my new story. It will get a bit rough in some later chapters with character torture and all, but I toned it down again for the teen rating. I wanted to warn you all in advance. Please review as always. I will get back to writing It's Christmas Time , Bruce Wayne over in the Justice League cartoon section in a bit. I needed to reclaim some angst.