Batman's Substitute
It was to an enemy more devious, sinister and grotesque than most rogue galleries every contained that brought the fall, however temporary, to Batman. He lay prone in his bed cursing this vile fiend and fighting it's inevitable pull with great will and infamous stubbornness. Reaching, Batman pulled himself, struggling to stand, only to be shoved brutally back by a white gloved hand, "Master Bruce, you must rest if you are to recover." Alfred calmly tucked the blankets back around him. Bruce opened his mouth, rasping,
"Alfred, the Batsignal." Even the rasp still carrying his presence.
But Alfred Pennyworth was not one to be easily swayed, "Yes Master Bruce I see it. You are in no condition to out, much less swing from buildings. Rest easy, If you really think it necessary, I'll call your substitute-
"NO!" Batman hacked from the exertion, barely able to breath, "I can't do that to Gothom again, remember last time?" He finished weakly, taking the tea Alfred offered.
"Quite vividly, who do you recommend then?"
"I have few ideas." Bruce Wayne lay back, exhausted, resigned to what he must now do. Picking up the phone, he placed the call. It was done. Tomorrow would see a new night, and with it a new Batman.
"Who is it to be then?" Alfred took the tea cup back, setting it meticulously back on the trey.
"West." Bruce sighed in resignation, he could only hope that Wally could pull it off, if not, he would be forced to take more desperate measures.
AN: no worries! I won't do anything too horrible to Bruce. If you must feel pity, save it for the poor souls that live in Gothom, because there must always be a Batman, but not all Batmans are cowled equal.
Any guesses as to who Alfred was referring to? I'll give you a hint, he's not from the DC universe.