Only So Many Truths
Author's notes: For story purposes this takes place before the whole "Catwoman goes to Jail" arch in the comics. While a few characters appear that are of my (and my friend's) creation, Batman and co belong to WB and DC comics.
Chapter 1 – The Beginning and the End
Click.
"According to our sources the murders were committed execution style. We have been unable to confirm or deny any suspects as of the moment. However, there seems to be an obvious trial throughout the united states and rest of the world even. Do you believe we are dealing with a serial killer?"
The Police Chief, who was ignoring the reporter for the most part let out a sigh as the microphone was shoved into his face. He pushed it away. "I cannot comment at the moment, let be assured we have our best men on it, and will release a statement shortly."
"Sir, you can't expect us to believe that…."
Click.
"Do you have to watch that dreadful news at these ours? I would think you would get enough of that sort of thing daily."
"Alfred." Bruce set down the television remote on the stand next to the couch. "The trail of crimes seems to be leading straight to Gotham City, I have every right to be worried." He shook his head, glancing over at his butler – his friend – his caregiver. Sometimes he put far too much thought into his life, and it showed by the expression playing on the older man's face. "Now, don't give me that look. I am not planning on doing anything … yet. It is hard enough to protect the city at times as it is. We honestly do not need another killer or killers stalking the city." He rose from the couch.
"Didn't the news say that the killer seemed to be targeting other 'menaces to society' so to speak?" Alfred paid no mind otherwise, he was busy tiding up, wondering how in all the years, Bruce has still managed to leave such a mess no matter what.
"Yes, but, they don't seem to care who else is there. Innocent and the 'guilty' are being hurt a like. Besides, the law should be left up to decide what happens to these criminals. I don't believe all of them deserved to be killed like that. I made a promise to protect the city, and somehow that even includes the criminals in it."
"What will you do if the murders start happening here?"
Bruce stopped before heading out of the room. He turned, a slight smirk played upon his lips. "Stop them of course."
The older man just watched as the multi-millionaire stepped out. "Somehow I was afraid of that."
Bruce was truly bothered by the situation. It wasn't the first time someone decided to take out all of the villains in the world, but last time, it was only those who did wrong who were the targets – not everyone else as well. He sat down in his personal study, while the room was dark; it gave him the solitude and aura he needed to think – which is especially what his mind was calling out for him to do at the moment. Wiping away the sweat from his forehead he recalled everything he was doing and why. Some of the questions he failed to answer, while others, he refused to. Once he even considered what it would be like if he just let the true terrors of the world die, instead of saving even them. Some have gone on to tell him he was a fool for rescuing those who did harm onto the city and others; but he had convinced himself that it was the right thing to do. He shouldn't start doubting himself now. Maybe that's what the city needs, someone without mercy.No. Azrael tried that before, and it didn't work – it was wrong. Bruce Wayne – the Batman leaned forward placing his hands upon his knees. Whoever was out there taking down the enemies of the world was also harming the innocent along with it. Something like that would have to be stopped, but it would be wrong to let them get away with putting to end to people, even ones like the Joker. No, he would do the right thing.
He had little time to dwell on the subject when light poured in from the study window. He didn't even have to look to know what it was. Instinctively he went in the opposite direction, only to almost run into Alfred on the way out.
"Master Bruce, it appears that the—" The aging man spoke, but was cut off before he could finish.
"I know, Alfred."
"Then you will be going out tonight?"
"I don't think I have little choice."
"I suppose that will mean I shall be reheating your dinner again tonight?"
Bruce rolled his eyes without even responding to that last comment. He left the room, leaving Alfred to continue going on about him. He knew he meant well, really he did. He just worried about him that was all. He couldn't blame him really, he tended to wonder about himself at times. After all, he dressed in a black and gray bat-suit and paraded around the city striking fear into the hearts of villains. He was probably the least sane out of anyone in Gotham. However, at the moment, that was the least of his concerns. Continuing on his way he moved into the room with the large grandfather clock. Just looking at it brought back early memories of his life. He flipped a switch on it, revealing a secret entrance to a cave far under the mansion. What old house didn't have it's passages and secret pathways? Granted he put them in later, but in all honesty, it actually fit, in respective to movies anyway.
It took him only moments to get into the cave and put on his suit. He had done it numerous times – it was almost second nature by now. He didn't even have to think about it anymore. Times like that almost frightened him. What does it take a person to truly get lost in something that they don't even realize what they were doing anymore? Is this what happened to many of the villains in Gotham? Did they lose so much of their original selves that they simply became monsters? Of course he knew it was far from simple events that could drive a man to madness, but even he felt himself slipping sometimes. What was it that actually kept him from being one of them? Was it the lives he saved? He lost some as well. Jason Todd and Barbara, though while she was not completely lost, she still had suffered.
He tried to get over such things, tell himself that it wasn't his fault, but yet, he still found himself putting the blame back on his own actions. What if there was something else that could be done? What if there was something he missed?
Get a grip on yourself, Bruce.
But it wasn't his own mind screaming at himself that brought him back to the depths of reality; rather a blinking light on his main computer was all that was needed to do the trick. He moved over to the large machine, but didn't take a seat; he would be leaving soon enough. He was met with a large image of his red and green clad partner.
"Alfred told you?" He didn't even need to ask why he was being contacted.
"Well… yes," responded the boy who seemed to find the whole thing amusing. "Do you want me to meet you at the police station?"
Batman let out a sigh, even if he wanted to, Robin would more than likely object if he said no. "Yes. Batman out."
Shaking his head he broke the connection, not even giving the younger boy a chance to respond, and walked over to the still Batmobile. For some reason he was starting to believe this was going to be a long night.
And it only just begun.
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Jim Gordon, commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department was pacing back and forth on the roof top near the bat-signal he only turned on moments earlier. Normally he would just stay put and wait, but after getting off the phone with another chief justice, he had a lot on his mind – most of which he just wanted to forget.
They faxed over images from other crime scenes. Gruesome, all of them. In his life he had seen many things, and many horrible, bloody crimes, but this – this was just different. If was as if someone had taken all the minds of the most terrible criminals of all time and rolled them into one – or many people all working together for a single goal, killing. Not just killing, murdering as they were some sort of avenging angel taking out the whole worlds hatred on every person who met his or their grasp. With all of that in mind, it wasn't even the images that disturbed him, or even the crimes themselves, it was when he received the phone call. He was told a detail that was being kept from the public, well actually two details to be exact. The first one was that it was, so to speak, a serial killer. The crimes were all done in the same style, and to not produce a large panic, the various stations had tried to keep that fact from being dwelled upon. And second, that one crime team had set a trap for the killers, and succeeded in a sense. They used a local known crime boss as bait.
Ten bodies were found at the scene moments after a call for backup was sent out. The officers were killed with a certain "mercy" he was told, not as drastic as the fate of the criminal. Their deaths had been quick, but there was little reason to question why they had chosen to keep that fact as quiet as possible – much to the dismay of the family members no doubt.
Gordon wondered how long they would be able to keep it a secret. Hell, he knew he wouldn't be able for long, people deserved to know what was out there, what was stalking the streets, even if it only seemed to be after those who did wrong. He wasn't sure why the officers had been killed as well. Maybe to protect the identities? Did they not want any witnesses? He supposed that would make sense, especially if it was a group of people. They could possibly want to get rid of as many criminals as possible before someone finally caught them. Though, with what he has heard, he was wondering if it would be even possible to catch them. They were like vigilantes with a really twisted purpose.
Batman. Batman would be able to stop them right? He tried not to put so much faith into a man who ran around in a mask, but he knew and trusted him to protect the city where he couldn't. Without him the city would be a worse hell than it already was. While some may not believe it could get any worse, he knew that it could, it really could.
"Gordon?" The voice from behind caused him to spin around almost startled. He knew who it was, he knew it quite well, but his nerves were already shot as it was shown clearly on his face.
"Batman." He nodded. "I suppose you know why I called you hear?" He nodded as he saw the masked-man's young partner step into view.
"The Vengence Crimes?" Robin spoke up, receiving a glance from the man in black.
"Is that what the news is calling them now?" Gordon shook his head. How did they even know it was about revenge? It made sense, yes. Only someone who has been through a helluva lot could do something this drastic, but if he was right and it was a group of people, it would take maybe a cult leader or even just a bunch of loony-bin rejects to take care of the job. "The media doesn't even know half of it." He shifted in his stance and placed his hands in his coat pocket, looking for some form of warmth or even comfort. "There is a lot more to it. I don't even know where to begin."
"Are you all right, Jim?" Batman questioned, watching Gordon begin to pace again. He shuffled his brows. Something was wrong, and he could instantly tell.
"Honestly? No. I would show you the pictures I was sent, Batman, but even I can't bare to look at them a second time. They should be burned."He stopped moving again. "They are starting to kill anyone who gets even remotely close to the crime scene. They took out nine police heavily armed police officers in another state."
Batman didn't respond for a moment, and even Robin seemed to be speechless. "You believe it is a group of people? Perhaps some sort of assassination squad?"
"I wish I knew, I really do, Batman. That would make sense though. They are like you, damn good at what they are doing, but with minds even more twisted than the Joker himself." He brought a hand to his forehead. Now if only he could get those images from haunting him.
"Are you worried they will come here?" Robin decided to jump into the conversation.
"I know they will." Batman glanced down at him, answering in Gordon's place.
"He's right, they will. We have some of the worst criminal minds. I'm going to admit, I wouldn't feel right sending my own men out there if they happen to strike here. But I am really concerned about you." Jim glanced at Batman, studying his face as if to read it, but he couldn't see anything, only an emotionless expression.
"Hey, at least the crime rate is probably down now right?" Robin spoke again, only to receive a cold glare from his mentor. He quickly shrugged back leaving the conversation to the two of them.
"Don't worry, Jim, I've dealt with many things in my lifetime. I will be careful"
"But I don't think anything quite to this nature." He turned around and looked at the Batsignal. "For god's sake they took out nine people in the matter of minutes." He heard nothing in response. He knew Batman and Robin were already gone – that was how things went. He had learned to deal with it after awhile. He would just leave without making a single sound. Sometimes he wished he had that ability, it had to be pretty damned useful at times. Hopefully Batman would heed his warning. Gotham could not afford to lose its greatest hero. He didn't even want to think of a city without the Batman there to help them.
He turned to walk back to the doors that lead to the inside of the building. He shut off the signal on his way there. He had a lot on his mind the whole way back to his office. He just wanted to sit down and get a large cup of coffee, or something to calm his nerves. He was met by a younger officer on the way down the stairs. Apparently his daughter was trying to get in touch with him. She always tended to be worried about his line of work, though, usually it was he, who was afraid something would happen. She was already hurt once, and part of him almost hoped that this new vengeance group would take care of the Joker. He almost wished it would happen. He wondered if he would feel any regret if it did. Probably not, it would be wrong, but he couldn't say he wouldn't be happy if they found the Joker's body sprawled out along the floor.
He stepped into his office which seemed a slight comfort; it was almost his home away from home on long nights like this. Setting his jacket on a chair he walked around to his desk. Picking up the phone receiver he dialed a few numbers and waited for the line to pick up.
"Hello Barbra? I heard you were trying to reach me." He paused for a moment, settling down in his seat. He now wished he had gotten his coffee before making the call. "No, I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind is all." Another pause. "No no, nothing has happened." Yet."Of course I'll be careful. You know I will. Yes. I love you too. Have a goodnight." He was almost glad to get off the phone. He could only stall Barbra for so long before she would eventually catch on what was really going on in his mind. But she meant well.
He rose from his chair. He should have really taken on Bullock's advice and installed a coffee machine in here. He didn't see much sense in it then, but now it sure as hell did. His actions froze when he spotted part of an image creeping out from under some papers on his desk – it was one of those pictures. Without thinking, he shoved all the papers into the trash. He didn't care what got thrown a way along with them, just as long as he didn't have to see it anymore.
His eyes pulled away from the trashcan in time to take note of a lone figure in the door way. Speak of the devil. He didn't know Bullock to be one just to barge in, but as far as he knew he could have knocked and he wouldn't have heard it. I'm losing it. But then he'd fit right in along with the rest of the city, wouldn't he? Did he walk in just as he was shoving the papers away? Did he know anything?
"Yes…what is it?" He finally gathered the strength to speak.
"Uh, yeah, boss, I saw you in the halls. You looked like you needed a drink, I considered bringing you a real drink, but you know, on the job and all." Bullock did his best to smile as he held up a cub of coffee.
In another life Gordon might have kissed him for that, but even he wouldn't go that far. He took the cup from his hand, reaching up to take a sip; his body gave the loudest of cheers. If the detective would have asked for it, he would have given him a promotion at the moment. He sat back down at his desk with the up-most relief. His problems were far from over, but at least he could forget about them for a little while—until he reached the last drop.
"So, boss, uh, what do you think of those crimes taking place all over?" Bullock wasn't sure if he should ask, but he was really just trying to make some sort of conversation.
"I wish I knew. Have we received any more information on whether or not they are going to hit Gotham?"
"Nah, notta thing. Though I hear some of the big shots are starting to get a little shookin' up. Who knows what's going through their minds right now. Probably going to blame the bat for this, him being a vigilante and all."
Gordon let out a sigh and set the coffee cup down on his desk. "You know full well that Batman had nothing to do with this. I believe we are dealing with a psychotic group of people." He knew the detective's feelings regarding a certain caped man, it would actually be rather hard to miss.
"Well, there are a bunch of those masked freaks runnin' around Gotham you know."
"Stop. We both know they had nothing to do with it, they've done a better service for this city than we ever could, no matter how much we would try." He was now growing slightly frustrated, he didn't want to argue over Batman being one of the good guys anymore.
"I know, I know. I'm jus' sayin,' you know how those big shots can be. They don't really take into account all the facts."
"I'm sure that's what you meant."
"Seriously, boss, I don't think the bat had anything to do with it, but, I dunno, it just seems odd."
"Since when have we seen anything normal?"
"You gotta point there." Harvey Bullock shook his head, even his dislike for Batman didn't out weight the actual crimes themselves. "I'll go see if I can dig up any more info. Maybe I can pull a few strings and see what I can find out." He turned to leave.
"Harvey, thank you, for everything."
"Don't mention it boss." He never knew coffee could mean that much to a man; but he shrugged and stepped out of the room. He had no idea.
No idea at all.
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Batman had little idea what was truly going on inside the commissioner's mind. He wasn't sure at this point if he really wanted to know. Both him and Robin were silent the whole way back to the cave, which Batman used the time to think about the whole situation and what he would do. As of the moment, he didn't have any plans, but he did plan on being prepared. He wouldn't allow anything to happen to his city, not even to the villains who plagued it. Right now, he would focus his efforts on collecting all the information he could – that would be his best bet for the moment. The Batmobile pulled into the batcave and came to a spot in its resting place. The two excited the vehicle and headed towards the main computer, when Batman stopped seeing Alfred up ahead.
"Master Bruce, I took the liberty of heating up your dinner, and to--"
He was cut off. "Hello Bruce." The chair at the computer turned around to reveal a blue and black clad figure.
"—Let master Dick into the mansion." Alfred finished in a slightly aggravated tone.
"What are you doing here?" Batman might not have shown it, but he was actually glad to have someone to discuss the situation with. Him and Nightwing may have had a slight falling about, but they had managed to patch things up for the most part. He had finally allowed the boy to become a man and go out on his own.
"What brings you back to Gotham?" Robin stepped up and gave a smile in Nightwing's direction. Whatever problems Batman may have had, it didn't trickle down to his would-be partner.
"Oracle's kept me posted on a lot of things, and since word of the murders have been spreading, crime has actually gone down in Bludhaven for a time. I figured I'd lend you two a hand." He flashed a grin.
Batman made almost a grunt and moved over to the computer. Robin, on the other hand, was glad to have someone else there who actually knew what it was like to work on the Bat. Sometimes he just didn't understand the man, but really, who could? He was about as elusive as anything and reading him was even more difficult. Nightwing glanced at the boy wonder who just gave a shrug in response.
A communication started to come through the computer, Dick, knowing full well how to run the situation took control and was greeted by the lovely Oracle. "Hey there."
Batman glanced up but remained silent for the moment.
"Do you have any news?" Dick spoke, still in a rather cheerful mood, but Barbra's seem further from truth. He saw her let out a sigh and look at him with a rather solemn expression. "What is it?"
"I've just gotten word from the wire of a new hit down in New York City." She almost seemed nervous as she said the words.
Batman folded his arms across his chest. "Was it the same group?"
"I don't know a whole lot." She paused as if thinking. "But it seems that way. I'm still trying to gather more information, but the police department is staying rather hush-hush on the details."
"Is there any indication of where they might strike next?"
"Not so far, I'll keep my eye out for anything that might give off some clues."
Batman nodded. He broke off into thought as Nightwing and Robin spoke to her a bit more. He didn't pay much attention to what they were saying, he had more important things to focus on. So it seemed they were on the move again. They worked so fast. One crime already happened not too long ago. How were they moving so fast? Plane? Car? Surely something like that would be easy to track. Somehow they were moving across the globe in a quick and stealthy manner. Unless maybe there was more than one group. Maybe one on this side of the world , and another elsewhere. He would take both into account until he knew fully what he was dealing with. The more he learned, however, the less he seemed to know. Even Oracle, who managed to stay at the top of most events, didn't really have any more information than they did. He had to admit, the group, whoever they were, were doing a good job at keeping themselves elusive – and that would make them harder to catch; but that doesn't mean he wouldn't still try.
"Batman, there's something else." Her voice broke him away.
He turned back to her. "Yes? What is it?"
"The latest victim…." She seemed to pause, as if not wanting to go on.
"What about him?" Batman studied her expression through the screen, searching for the sorrow and concern in her eyes.
"It was a woman." She seemed to look away. She didn't want to tell him, he was sure of that much. But why? Why was she trying to keep it from him? Another criminal was killed. A woman, yes, but in New York, it couldn't—
"It was…Catwoman."
Silence echoed throughout the cave.