Author's note: This fan fiction is a crossover between the Christopher Nolan-directed Batman trilogy and Alice: Madness Returns. The story is set three years after the events of Dark Knight Rises, and 140 years after Alice: Madness Returns. I do not own anything relating to the ideas and content of Batman Begins/Dark Knight/Dark Knight Rises, or Alice: Madness Returns. This is strictly a fan-made story.

Chapter 1

Moon light trickled down the Victorian architecture of the multi-story buildings of London. Men and women of all ages traveled the streets; Middle-aged men, dressed in suits and ties, wrapped an arm around slightly younger women, who were decked out in collared shirts and knee-length skirts, talking to each other in quiet voices. Teenagers, dressed in popular designer labels, sat on the steps leading into the apartments, the latest video game and who they were dating filling their discussion topics. On this particular night, a beautiful girl strolled down the streets, looking off to her sides now and then, seemingly tagging everyone she saw with her eyes.

London has changed so much thought the girl, whose thin muscles covered her five foot, eight inch frame. Her black hair running down to her shoulders, the girl wore a black and white striped long-sleeved shirt, a black skirt that went past her knees, and a white apron with a checkered patter on the front covering the dress. Her legs were covered by long black stockings, and her black shoes bore buckles instead of laces. As the girl rounded the corner onto Oxford Street, she came upon the fort-like structure of Dudley's Homeless Home. Her silver eyes falling on the white-stoned building, she noticed a man, dressed in the black clothes of a priest, chatting up a storm with a small group of teenagers who looked like the belonged in Dudley's; ragged hair, plain t-shirts with jagged edges, pants with holes in the pocket or other odd places on the leg somewhere, worn-out shoes. Despite the material things they lacked, nothing could dampen the enthusiasm of youth coming from the body language and faces of these young boys and girls. The older girl watching this entire incident let out a small smile as the priest started handing out little orange and brown Gideon bibles.

"What a kind old man he is; it seems that things have gotten better around London lately. No more perverts running around the streets, and no more old cronies like Nurse Whitless," said the girl.

"Would you like a card, little boy?" said the priest in a suddenly audible voice. Turning around, the girl saw something hanging around the boy's neck. Upon further inspection from afar, she could make out a card with the number 15 around his neck. The girl's eyes widened in horror as voices started speaking in her head, her past itching to be remembered.

Forget it! Abandon that memory. It's unproductive. Go to Wonderland… said an older male voice, filled with authority.

I can't! I'm trapped in my past! Said the girl's voice as panic set in.

No Alice! Discard that illusion. Forget it. Go to wonderland.

I'd rather not doctor. My wonderland's shattered; it's dead to me!

Your preference doesn't signify, girl. Now, Alice, where are you?

I'm sailing, with a friend. Hmm, it's different somehow. Things have changed.

Change is good. It's the first link in the chain of forgetting.

I want to forget! Who would choose to be alone, imprisoned by their broken memories?

I'll set you free, Alice. Memory is a curse more often than a blessing.

Giving her head a shake and covering her eyes with her slender hands, Alice took down her hands and looked back towards the priest and teenagers, who were no longer there. Where the priest had been, a tall, brown-haired man with a full beard and fancy suit could be seen holding multiple tags with numbers on them.

"Yield control, Alice," said the man as he looked over towards Alice, his eyes penetrating through the imaginary layers of protection around Alice's body.

"You can't be doctor Bumby," muttered Alice to herself, her heart pounding furiously as she took a step back, eyes fixated on the doctor, "I watched him die all those years ago."

"You should listen to him," squeaked the voice of a small female child. As Alice looked down in front of her, a nine-year-old girl in long Barney pajamas stood a couple feet away. Her face was etched into a permanent smile, the corners of her mouth stitched into an upward position. Her eyelids stapled open, the girl's forehead was stitched shut, like someone had cut it open.

"You shouldn't exist! I defeated Dr. Bumby and destroyed the doll maker's world back then; you can't be real!" screeched Alice, her eyes widening wider and wider as her eyes turned from silver to green. Several Dollgirls, each one eight feet in height, a hook for a right hand and the left hand carrying a giant scissor blade, started popping up behind the little girl. Their pigtails jiggling, each Dollgirl let out a blood-curling scream. As Alice turned to run back where she came from, her surroundings began to transform around her eyes. Giant mushrooms with white stems and red tops popped out of the ground; stones with tree roots wrapped around them formed on the walls of the buildings. Flowers of all shapes and colors laid scattered all over the ground, and large white dice the size of a television set could be seen at random spots all over the place. Trees with leaves of the different autumn colors towered over the towering buildings of London.

…

The next morning, a tall man, about six feet and two inches, strolled through the large restaurant patio just off of Adrian Street, a restaurant surrounded by shoe and clothing departments. Wearing a three-button black business suit and silver tie, the man's black eyes scanned the crowd outside, his right hand running through his black buzz-cut hair, his ears picking up the different conversations going around the patio from the customers.

"This is the best Lasagna I've ever had!"

"This is so good! I've just got to try making this stuff at home next week!"

"Have you tried this bread? It's the best I've ever had; we should have bread at home!"

"God, this pizza is absolutely incredible! We have to come back next week!"

"Italian soda; what a luxury!"

The man in the suit let a small smirk cover his face as he entered through the door and into the main part of the place. Dim lights all over the ceiling reflected off the walls as the man looked around, watching as customers ate at the hundred tables and booths set up around the place. Right as the man was about to walk forward, the yell of an older man could be heard from the left side of the restaurant. Sliding between the tables, the man found himself behind a waiter, who judging from the food and broken plates on the floor had a miscommunication with the middle-aged, slightly balding man dressed in a light purple collared shirt and tan slacks.

"I'm so sorry, sir," apologized the waiter, a young man in his late twenties as far as the man in the suit could tell. Placing a hand on his shoulder, the waiter turned around, and his eyes widened in surprise at the presence of the man.

"What seems to be the problem, Nick?" asked the man gently.

"I accidentally dropped the man's pasta and soup special when I went to hand him the food," said Nick, his voice shaky as his nerves flared up.

"Don't worry about it; you just go get the stuff you need to clean this up," said the man as he gave Nick a pat on the shoulder, Nick moving fast as the man turned his attention to the balding customer, "So, I take it you ordered our special of the week?"

"Yeah, I was really looking forward to it too until your waiter spilled it all over the floor," said the man sitting in a booth by himself, the sun shining through the glass windows and onto the brown marble tables.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get you another one, and it'll be on the house because of this."

"Thank you, sir. By the way, I didn't catch your name," said the man as he extended a hand towards the man in the suit.

"It's Jack Payne. I own the place," said Jack with a smile as he turned to head to the kitchen, the man's jaw falling in wonder…

Once he closed the tainted glass door to his office at the back of the Restaurant, Jack slid into the black leather swivel chair behind the brown desk, the top of which was covered in paperwork of all kinds, as well as letters and advertisement ideas from the ad department. Throwing back his arms in a yawn, Jack leaned back in his chair, swiveling towards the window as he pondered over the stories that he heard from some customers during the last two hours.

Did you see that girl walking the streets last night? I'm starting to feel sorry for her every time I see her walking by in that black dress of hers.

I wouldn't feel too sorry for her; I feel bad for all the hoodlums I've seen over the years that have tried to harass her or harm her. Some end up hospitalized and others end up dead.

I don't know what you're talking about; that girl is so friendly to animals every time I've seen her, especially cats! She really goes for those cats a lot.

I saw her go by Dudley's last night, and she just turned and ran from the place! I don't know what could have freaked her out so bad.

"It's none of your concern," muttered Jack to himself, "They're just stories."

Swiveling his chair back towards his desk, Jack started rifling through the papers on his desk, trying to forget what he heard by making himself busy.

…..

As the last employee made his way out the door to head on home, Jack followed him out and locked the doors using his keys. After making sure the door was locked with a sharp tug on the handle, Jack put his hands in his pocket and started walking down Adrian Street. After walking down a few blocks, Jack came upon Fulton Park, a lovely 10 acre patch of green grass, Oak trees, and wooden benches where the mother's sat to watch over their children. Of course, no mothers or children were present on this night; the sundown closure time made sure of that. As Jack neared the end of the park, a group of men could be seen gathered in a circle, newspapers in hand and voices talking rapidly:

"It seems that Gotham City is finally starting to get over the events of three years ago."

"Yeah, I'm so glad that terrorist Bane got what he had coming to him."

"Whatever happened to that Batman guy? I used to read about him all the time in the paper."

"I heard that he died in the events of three years ago; they erected a statue of him to honor his memory and everything."

"I also heard that Gotham had a new guy protecting their city."

"He's no Batman though. The world needs Batman."

"You people are crazy! Batman never existed; he's as real as the easter bunny or Santa Clause."

"I wish he did; someone has to do something about the crime going on here in London. Our Mayor and police force has been very ineffective for a long time."

As Jack walked past them and took a right onto Safe Haven, the sound of a girl's scream reched his ears. Racing to a nearby ally, Jack slinked into the shadows, watching in horror as a gang of hoodlums surrounded a girl. Looking closer, Jack noticed the girl was wearing a black dress with a black and white striped long-sleeved shirt underneath. A cat stood between her legs, hissing at the hoodlums who threatened the girl above him.

"Well well, what do we have here?" taunted one of the hoodlums, a young man with a face covered by black paint, his body covered by blue denim jeans and a black denim jacket with the sleeves cut off.

"Get away from me, you brute!" squealed Alice as she placed her hands against the cement wall behind her.

"You don't tell me what to do, you whore!" raged the hoodlum as he slapped Alice in the face, knocking her to the ground. Jack felt his anger boil and was tempted to jump into the fray, but Alice suddenly rose up, her eyes bearing into the hoodlum's.

What's going on? Wondered Jack as he continued to watch from the shadows. Alice blinked once, and when her eyes opened up, they had changed from silver to green. Grabbing the hoodlum's head with one hand, Alice slammed his face into the ground with tremendous force. As the hoodlum struggled to get up, blood dripping from his face, Alice continued to stare him down.

"Kill her! Get the dumb broad!" screamed the hoodlum as the rest of his buddies surrounded Alice. As she looked around the circle of hoodlums, the one she punch took a swipe at her ankles with a knife that he produced from his pocket. Alice jumped over his sweeping arm, landed on her feet and kicked him right in the shin, knocking the man out cold as blood continued to drip from his face and onto the ground. The remaining six guys charged Alice. Alice grabbed the incoming arm of the first one and twisted it at an unnatural angle, causing the man to fall to the ground screaming violently, clutching his broken arm. The second man threw several punches at Alice, but the girl expertly dodged his blows by ducking at every one; Alice landed a vicious uppercut on his chin to knock him out.

What the hell is going on? Thought Jack as Alice stared down the third man, who produced a knife and lunged at Alice. Intercepting his weapon, Alice turned the weapon back onto the attack, placing the knife in his gut and slashing it swiftly. As the man fell, the fourth pulled out a pistol, aiming the barrel at Alice. The girl slapped the gun out of his hand, and crashed her other hand through his face, knocking the man out cold. The last two stood their ground, fists extended as Alice turned to face them.

"You should have left me alone," raged Alice as she walked towards them, her steps purposeful as she stopped a couple steps away from them, her eyes glaring at them with an unnatural anger. As both men threw their most powerful punches at her, Alice grabbed both fists and twisted them upwards, causing both men to land on their rears. As they struggled to their feet, Alice kicked one of them as hard as she could in the chin, causing the man's neck to break, and back-handed the other man as hard as she could, causing him to fall to the ground, knocked out indefinitely. As Alice looked to the ground, Jack stared on in amazement.

"Who is this girl?" he whispered out loud as Alice suddenly fainted, falling on her back as she lost consciousness. Moving forward out of the shadows carefully, Jack made his way over to Alice, picked up her body, and walked out of the Ally with her in his arms.

…

Her head groggy, Alice's eyes fluttered open as she slowly stood up on the couch she laid on, a blue blanket wrapped around her body. Hearing a hum, Alice looked over the back of the couch to see a man in a white-collared shirt and black slacks in the kitchen making something on the stove. The buttons on his sleeves undone and sleeves rolled up as he stirred a large spoon in a pot, the man looked over towards Alice, his brown hair accentuating his brown eyes perfectly.

"I'm glad to see that you're awake. I was worried about you when I found you in that alley, but it seems like you'll be ok. I'm making you some soup; hope you don't mind," said the man.

"Where am I?" asked Alice, her hands rubbing her cheeks as the man started pouring soup into a bowl.

"You're in my penthouse downtown. I couldn't just leave you out there in the cold, so I brought you back here. You're free to leave as soon as you're up to it," said the man as he walked over to the couch, sitting down next to Alice as he put a spoon in her soup and handed her the bowl. Taking the bowl from him, Alice started eating, her spoonfuls coming at a fairly rapid rate. The man stood up and walked over to his desk, which sat across from his television set. Flipping through some papers, the man looked back at her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," said Alice as she set down the bowl, "I never did catch your name, sir."

"Bruce Wayne."

"Well thank you for rescuing me, Mr. Wayne. I appreciate the help. My name's Alice, Alice Liddell."

"You're welcome. The pleasure was mine, Alice."

"Well, I don't want to ruin a good conversation, but I have to get going back to my own home. Thanks for everything, Mr. Wayne," said Alice as she stood up and walked towards the door.

"Alice," said Bruce as she stopped while opening the door, "please be careful."

"I'll try," Alice said as she walked out the door, closing it behind her. As soon as the door closed, Bruce sat down at his desk, and pulled out a laptop. As soon as his black laptop finished powering up, Bruce entered the password and brought up his Google search engine. Typing Alice Liddell into the search engine, Bruce started pulling up old documents dating back to the 1860s and 1880s. Bruce began to sort out the information in his head.

So, Alice Liddell was eight years old in 1864, her parents and sister were killed in a fire that burned down their house. After a failed suicide attempt, she was admitted to Rutledge Asylum for the next ten years until one day, she was apparently cured of her insanity. In 1875, she was under the care of a doctor Angus Bumby, who died in an accident at the Moorgate train station. According to these documents, the girl I saw before me was Alice Liddell, but if that's true, then she's over 150 years old! But she looks just like she did in 1875; what is her secret? How was she able to take a gang of hoodlums as easily as she did? What was up with those green eyes? There's something going on here, but where do I start looking for the answers? No, I can't go back to that, no matter how much I want to…

Bruce shut down his computer for the night, sat down on the couch, and turned the television on, tuned into the local news channel. Bruce watched with half-open eyes as the broadcasters poured over multiple news reports about crimes being committed that day. The anger over injustice began to fill Bruce's mind as he pondered over what the men in the park had to say.

"Batman doesn't exist anymore; I'm just the owner of a restaurant now," Bruce muttered to himself, not feeling very convinced by his own words…