Batman – Beginning of Infinity
By DeChunk
Based on characters created by DC
They were the shots heard round the world. Thomas Wayne and his wife, Martha, were shot dead in the heart of their native Gotham by a petty thief.
Their deaths were the front page of almost every paper around the world, filled with words of regret for the passing of two great humanitarians. Words were said for their charity, their hospitality, and their business. Only one paper mentioned a fact that would further influence the events to come: it all happened in front of their seven year old son, Bruce.
The Waynes had no family to speak of. Thomas and Martha were both only children, and their parents had died some time earlier. The only adult Bruce actually knew and not simply introduced to at a party once and then never heard from them again was the family butler, Alfred. A Boston Brahmin man, his manners were impeccable, but he had no idea how to raise a child. He could make Master Bruce's meals, clean his bedroom, and keep him updated on his schedule and such, but could he teach Master Bruce to throw a baseball? Could he truly help make the boy into a man when it came time? The forty six year old man asked himself these questions while sitting in the limousine. It came to a stop.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said to the quiet boy sitting next to him. "We're here."
He quietly followed Alfred out of the car and into the field lined with headstones. There was a large group of Thomas and Martha's friends waiting around the grave. Bruce recognized a few of them. There were people who worked for his parents like Mr. Fox, Mr. and Mrs. Updike, Ms. Quinn, and Mr. and Mrs. Luthor. There was Mr. Jonas Queen and Mrs. Holly Queen and their son, Ollie, whom Bruce had been introduced to on many occasions. The service began and a priest said some things about life's fleeting qualities and how the best are sometimes taken from us in their prime. It took way too long and Bruce stopped paying attention, instead looking at the twin graves before him. The caskets on top seemed too identical to be his parents. They were both black and had an ivory trim to accentuate the darkness of the material.
As the clergyman finally stopped talking and the bodies of his parents were lowered into the ground, Bruce felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, and to his surprise it was Mr. Ducard. He knew Mr. Ducard was one of Father's friends, but never knew why. He always creeped Bruce out in a horror movie kind of way. After the brief contact, without a word, Mr. Ducard walked away. Everyone else followed suit. Bruce ignored their movements and stood motionless in front of the dual graves.
"Master Bruce. It's time to go."
Bruce heard Alfred's voice, but didn't want to heed them.
"It's getting dark, and I don't want you catching a cold." The boy stood as a statue would. "We can come back tomorrow." Alfred turned the boy around with very little resistance and led him back to the limousine. Bruce looked out his window the whole way back.
"What's going to happen next?"
Those were the first words Bruce said in the past six days and Alfred could only find one thing he could say: "I don't know."