He Drives Us Bats, a batman fanfic

He Drives Us Bats

If somebody had told Harper Row that morning that her brother would be kidnapped by a wacko wearing a pig mask and rescued by another wacko in a bat mask, she would have asked what you were smoking.

Never in a million years did she think she would ever encounter the Batman. But when she found the note in her apartment that made her blood run cold, she knew she would have to.

Being the whiz kid she was and working for an electrical company, it was simple enough for Harper to rig up a makeshift Bat-Signal on top of her apartment complex. And as an added touch, the signal stretched all the way to the center of Wayne Tower. She wasn't sure if that helped, but soon enough, a voice sent chills down her spine.

"Who are you?"

She recounted the story of Professor Pyg kidnapping her brother Cullen from their apartment. His note revealed he'd been watching Harper from afar and wanted her but happened upon Cullen while she was still at work. The madman demanded she give herself up in exchange for Cullen. Desperate, she turned to Gotham's resident authority on psychopaths.

Nodding with grim determination and snatching the note from her hands, the Bat called his infamous method of transportation: the Batmobile.

As it pulled up to the curb below, Harper, the gearhead she was, couldn't help but admire it.

"That…is gorgeous. I mean, that thing is sexy, can I…?"

"No. I'll bring your brother back safely."

As he sped off, despite the cold exterior and seeming lack of ability to do anything with his face but frown, Harper believed him.

So she wasn't too surprised but still plenty anxious, when Batman came through their window holding an unconscious and slightly bruised Cullen.

"Oh, thank God." She breathed out, teary-eyed with relief. If anything ever happened to Cullen, she swore she'd have killed Pyg. She turned to thank her brother's rescuer only to find the curtains fluttering.

"Mr. Thomas, I presume?"

Duke looked up. "Yes, sir?"

The man extended a hand. "Bruce Wayne."

Duke knew this, of course. As he glanced over Gotham City's expansive skyline, he couldn't help but still be shocked that Bruce Wayne himself took notice of his skills and invited him personally to Wayne Enterprises.

"So why did you call me here, Mr. Wayne?"

"You're a bright young mind and Leslie Thompkins told me about your work at the Gotham Clinic in the East End. Rough neighborhood."

"Yeah, well someone has to help. Gives me community service hours. My parents do some computer science so helping to update the clinic was no problem."

Bruce offered him an ingenuous smile. "Problem or not, it's still commendable. It's nice to know good people still live in Crime Alley."

"That's what Dr. Thompkins always says."

"So I assume you heard about the break-in by Black Mask and the False Face Society?"

"Yeah, I saw it. Those guys stole a lot of supplies."

Duke could have sworn Mr. Wayne seemed a lot more engrossed in the conversation now. "I'm in the process of replenishing those, Duke. But Leslie's isn't the only clinic they've been stealing from. I've heard this gang has fresh blood, lots of new players. Did you happen to see their faces?"

"Not enough to describe them very well to the sketch artist. Why?"

The clouds covered the sun outside and Duke could have sworn a shadow passed over Bruce Wayne's face. His lips tilted down, the light in his eyes dimmed a little, and the boy billionaire rose to his full height as his voice hardened.

"Because I know, Duke."

"Know…what?"

"I know about your metahuman ability to process light. Minutes into the future and minutes in the past."

"Leslie told you!" Duke spluttered with a hint of betrayal.

"You can trust me, Mr. Thomas. I need you to trust me."

Striding over to the far wall, Wayne pressed a panel that opened to a secret elevator.

Turning over his shoulder, he ordered, "Follow me."

Reluctantly Duke followed, and was astounded by the bunker revealed to him once the doors opened.

An older gentleman was tinkering at a workbench to the far right. "Mr. Wayne!" he called out in greeting. "Mr. Thomas." He nodded at Duke.

"You know me?" Duke asked in bewilderment.

"I've been expecting you." The man shook his hand. "Lucius Fox. Mr. Wayne has a device that would enable us to access your memory from that night. Your abilities will aid that process and allow him to identify Black Mask's gang."

"Who is he?" Duke scoffed. "The Batman?"

Lucius just glanced with a knowing and wry grin.

"Whoa." Duke exhaled. "You mean…?"

"I'm trusting you with this, Mr. Thomas." Duke whirled to find the Caped Crusader coming out of the shadows. "Will you help me?"

Under the earnestness (and intensity) of Batman's gaze, Duke found he couldn't say no.

AN: I had no idea about Duke's powers until I saw it on Google. Tried to incorporate it in and decided that his parents aren't Jokerized. That's too sad. From what I've read, I love Duke's character and think he's a great addition to the mythos.

"Dad, would you mind telling me why some of these designs on your hard drive resemble the Batman's latest muscle car?"

"What can I say, great minds think alike." Lucius Fox buttoned up his coat and crossed the room to head home for the night. "Night, son."

Luke Fox put his hands on his hips, rubbing his chin. His dad was always dodgy when it came to the subject of Batman. He always kept those conversations short. Which kind of sucked since his dad was always his sounding board for the things that fascinated him. The Batman was certainly on that list. The cool cars, the sick moves, not to mention the mystery, who wouldn't fanboy over Gotham's protector?

Another thing that fascinated Luke? Mysteries. And his father's connection to Batman was one he was determined to solve. This wasn't the first time Luke had seen something on his father's workload that resembled Batman's equipment. This was the first time he had confronted his Dad about it, though. If Lucius Fox was nothing else, he was a master of evasive maneuvers when it came to things he didn't want to share or talk about. Thus, Luke was determined to find the information himself.

Duke Thomas was the straw that broke the camel's back. The kid had been spending a lot of time in Wayne's personal office, especially when his dad was there. Lucius was mentoring the kid and supervising him in his new position at Wayne Enterprises. But something deeper had to be going on. In his free time, Luke had been able to manufacture a near-perfect copy of Bruce Wayne's fingerprints. Once that was done, it was a simple matter of finding the secret entrance.

2 hours and 45 minutes later

Okay, maybe not so simple.

Luke was lost. He'd scoured all the floors and turned Wayne's office upside down. He couldn't find a damn thing.

He sighed and threw up his hands. "You win this round, Dad."

"Access granted."

Startled, Luke whirled and saw a section of the wall shift to reveal an elevator hatch.

Fist-pumping, Luke walked into the elevator that led below to a bunker containing very familiar designs.

"I knew it!" he whisper-shouted. "The Batmobile, Batplane, that motorcycle thing. Spelunking gear?"

"Something like that."

Luke swore he jumped 10 feet.

The Dark Knight loomed over him with the ghost of a smile. "I figured you might find this place eventually. I calculated somewhere between 14-18 months."

"You know me? I'm a huge fan, man! I-I-I have a souvenir cup, the air freshener, even the socks!"

"Your father also told me about the bedspread."

Luke flushed. "So you do know my dad. But that was a long, long time ago."

"I didn't realize 8 months was such a large gap, son." Lucius Fox called out.

"Dad! So you do know Batman!" Suddenly remembering, Luke turned to Batman. "And I always forgot to take the bedspread to a Goodwill! But I replaced it a while back! Two years ago."

"You're 27, son."

"So! Anyway, how long have you two been in cahoots?"

"Since the day I bought the shares." Batman said as he pulled back his cowl.

"Bruce Wayne?!"

"I know, right?" A new voice rang out.

"Duke!" Luke did a double take. "What are you wearing?"

The young man sighed. "I need a better publicist. I'm the Signal!"

"Still getting the word out, Mr. Thomas?", Lucius chimed in with a smile.

"Well, the False Face Society got it tonight. Is Batwing joining the team?"

Luke froze. "Uh, who?"

"I did some snooping of my own, Luke. Love the design, but it could use a few tweaks."

Luke's mouth closed and opened like a fish. "You're good, kid."

"Lucius has told me about your combat training." Bruce interjected. "We decided it was time to let you in before you struck out recklessly on your own. The last thing we need is another amateur without proper guidance and training."

"(Cough) Harper!"

"As I recall, Duke, I sent you to talk Ms. Row out of this life with little results."

Duke looked down, embarrassedly, and then turned to Luke. "Wanna show me what you got, Batwing?"

"Sure, Signal."

As they walked to the monitor, Lucius sighed. "Well, you've got another one, Mr. Wayne. Sometimes I wonder how you roped me into this."

Bruce smiled. "I remember."

A/N: At the end I'm trying to hint that despite her lack of training, Harper fought Duke off pretty easily.

"Well, it's finished Mr. Wayne. After all your other requests, I suppose an aircraft capable of traversing the globe at supersonic speeds shouldn't come as a surprise. While the space travel is still a work in progress, I'm sure those Brazilian models will appreciate their Bora Bora ETA being cut in half."

Bruce offered a disarming smile. "Just saving the world one disaster at a time, Lucius."

"I must admit the design is curious, though. It's shaped like a…Batwing?"

Bruce said nothing but tossed a devil-may-care grin over his shoulder. "Good night, Lucius."

Lucius sighed as he walked away from his workstation, drained from a long day. Lucius had some suspicions that Bruce Wayne wasn't what he seemed. In fact, he had a very good idea who Bruce was. But he didn't want to think too hard down that road. Better to leave it alone for the sake of plausible deniability, if nothing else.

2 weeks later

"The Scarecrow's fear toxin appeared to be emanating from the microwave emitter underneath Wayne Tower. The mysterious Batman was able to spread some sort of anti-toxin using some sort of…rocketship? It appears to be designed in the shape of a Bat's wing. This is Vicki Vale signing off for GBN."

Much as he didn't want them to, the pieces were becoming harder for Lucius to ignore. If that wasn't a tip off, he didn't know what was.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Fox."

Lucius's blood ran cold for a moment before he turned in his office chair to see the Batman standing in his window.

"Don't thank me. You did the legwork. All I did was tell you what I knew and whipping up the anti-toxin was nothing. That was a nifty manner of spreading it, by the way. Interesting design."

The Bat said nothing and turned to go.

"Thank you." Lucius called to him. "I get the feeling you're not told that enough."

"Just saving the world one disaster at a time."

As the Gotham Knight descended to the city below, Lucius could have sworn he heard a smile in the vigilante's voice.

"Indeed, Mr. Wayne. Indeed."

JPV

The Docks, Gotham Harbor 10:11 PM

This was it. The dark, avenging angel known as Azrael was ready to strike, the System flowing through his veins. The man who killed his father would pay. Jean Paul was expecting resistance, however. Gotham's legendary sentry known as the Batman was sure to make an appearance sooner or later. And when he did, destiny would thrust Jean Paul into a future that he knew there was no going back from.

The Batman's influence was in this city's every pore. Every time a criminal took an extra look over his shoulder. A crime lord adding some extra manpower. The citizens' feeling just a tad bit safer when walking down the street. It was subtle and at the same time impossible to miss in a hellhole like this.

When Jean Paul Valley saw a shadow gliding his way, he knew that his destiny had come to meet him.

AN: I know this is a kinda short and weird segment but I had to put Jean Paul into this somehow. After reading the Knightfall saga in full, I've grown to love Paul's nonsensical rants and dramatic narration and I had to try it myself.

"Batman! Always Batman!" Arthur Brown, AKA the Cluemaster, was currently having a fit in his basement, scrapping old plans. "That caped clown always seems to be a step ahead! Does he even sleep?!"

Unbeknownst to Cluemaster, his young daughter Stephanie liked to listen to her Daddy's funny rants.

Stephanie was a curious little kid. Unlike her mother, she'd learned her father was the Cluemaster. She knew his schemes, his plots. He was surprisingly open when he was ranting. But she knew if she shared what she'd heard with anybody, her Dad would go away for a long time and she didn't want that. No matter how little attention he paid her.

He'd been bringing up this Batman guy a lot. She'd seen glimpses of him on TV and was immediately hooked but her parents refused to buy her the hat she wanted. At least they let her have the Robin tricycle.

Batman and Robin really fascinated her. A kick butt Dynamic Duo, they didn't seem scared of anything. She bet Batman gave Robin all the Bat-hats he wanted. But her favorite part about Batman's existence was looking at the Bat-Signal every night. Someday, she would go up there. Just to say hi.

The floodlight shining over Gotham was a pretty sight and if you listened close enough, you might hear the Batmobile zooming by or see the Batwing streaking through the sky.

Yeah, that'd be the life.

"STEPHANIE! Did you clean your room?"

"Coming, Mom!"

Spoiler alert: that life clearly wasn't for her.

Much to her surprise, years down the line, Stephanie watched the floodlight shine over Gotham, heard the roar of the Batmobile (or was it the Batwing?), and came face to face with the Dynamic Duo themselves.

And in that moment, all she could think to say was: "Hi."

AN: I know the ending is kind of awkward but I wanted to put in Stephanie saying hi. Let's just say that she turns on the signal because she needs their help to take down her dad. The Spoiler alert line is obviously a reference to her identity as Spoiler. It's seen her say that in the comics a few times. Just to clarify: when she's a kid, Dick is Robin and when she's older, it's Tim.

"So that is my father?"

"Yes, Damian. The Batman."

Damian frowned at the myriad monitors displaying Batman's adventures. "I thought he'd be taller."

Talia laughed at her son's remark. "He is a great man, Damian. Powerful, compassionate, driven. I see much of him in you."

"Tt. According to Grandfather, that isn't always a good thing."

"I admit your father lacks the will to do all that is necessary to cleanse his city. But that's where you come in, Damian. You can complete your father's work, convince him of our way."

Damian turned away. "Perhaps."

The boy was trying to conceal his hope that he wouldn't have to do any of that. His hope that he and his father could do that side by side. Maybe knowing of his existence would soften his father to the possibilities of becoming their ally.

"When will I meet him?" Damian demanded, not being able to hide his enthusiasm.

"In time, my son." Talia said, ruffling her child's hair. She turned back to the screen with a wistful smile. "In time."

"Crap. Lost him again."

Kate Kane huffed as she set aside her binoculars. The past week, she had been trailing Batman with little success. She was hoping to study his movements and methods to test her stealth and see how high the bar was raised for her own vigilante activities. Dressed in full garb, Batwoman hadn't had her first flight quite yet though she was itching to make her mark on Gotham City. But she figured she should learn from the best. And she was a visual learner.

Though so far, it was like he could tell she was watching. But she always gave him a wide berth. Like 4 buildings away wide. Plus, she was ex-military. She couldn't be thatbad. Whoever this guy was, he was good. Maybe he had the same training. Not to mention whatever ninja skills he was all too happy to show off. And there was a reason they called him the World's Greatest Detective. She knew she should call it a night. Renee would be wondering where she was, but she couldn't help but wonder:

"Who are you, Batman?"

"You'll never know. So STOP trying."

All Kate saw was his cape going over the ledge before he was gone.

Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat and it didn't come down until her quarry was long gone.

"I've got a lot to learn." She breathed into the winter air.

AN: I changed it a little bit but a lot of this is from the Batwoman Begins issues of Detective Comics: Rebirth. Thought it was cool, plus I wasn't sure how to use Kate.

Jewelry Store on the East End

"Oh, this is sweet, Boney. Bats is too distracted with the Justice League on the other side of the globe. Perfect timing to pull off this heist."

"I told ya our patience would pay off, Marco. With no Bat, it's open season."

"I wouldn't bet on it, boys."

"What the-?!"

Boney was cut off by a swift kick to the jaw.

Marco and his two other comrades wheeled back in surprise. "Who are you, Batlady?"

The woman huffed in annoyance before taking a battle stance. "Huntress."

Marco charged and Helena easily dodged his strikes. After kneeing him where it hurt, she gestured for the other two to charge.

So of course, they both ran.

Whipping out her crossbow, she stuck the two of them to an alleyway wall with a cute little note for the cops.

Admiring her handiwork from an adjacent rooftop, Helena Bertinelli smiled when the police showed up to collect the trash.

"Batman, Schmatman. I got this thing down."

Feeling rather than seeing a presence behind her, a voice rang out: "Gotham doesn't need another vigilante, Ms. Bertinelli. I don't want to see you out here again. You're not ready."

Before she had any chance of finding him, she could tell Batman was long gone. "Well screw you too, then." She muttered under her breath. Looking up at the moon, her resolve grew even stronger to prove him and everyone else wrong. Everyone would learn the name Huntress real soon.

AN: This scene and dialogue is heavily inspired from a scene during Knightfall. The Batman, Schmatman line is something Tim says in the Knight Time episode of Superman: The Animated Series.

"Corner of Conway and Newton. 8:45. Just like every night."

Young Jason Peter Todd knew Crime Alley like he knew his own name. The 12 year old kept tabs on everything that went on in the neighborhood. For example, that Batman went on a nightly patrol here every night. Also, every year like clockwork, he and Dr. Leslie Thompkins went to the same spot every year and laid down roses. He was so consistent, that it made him all-too predictable. Same Bat-time, same Bat channel, the vigilante would frequent the same old haunts. If nothing else, the Bat was a creature of habit. And that could play into the kid's hands.

Jason wasn't a crazy fanboy like a lot of kids his age seemed to be, but he definitely respected Batman and what he did for the city. He got results. More than the cops did, anyway. Some days, Jason didn't feel he went far enough, though. There were still pimps, drug operations, police corruption and brutality running rampant without fail, without ceasing. The Dark Knight left band-aids on the Park Row crime rate, sure. But band-aids eventually fell off, wounds reopened, and some new crooks would take the old ones' place. Batman was too focused on solving Riddler's doofy puzzles or whatever lame crook happened to be the flavor of the month to really make a permanent impact for people like him.

The guy had style, though. His ride was pretty sweet. Cool look. Enough to make the underworld piss its pants, anyway. The ears might be a little much, though. At least he'd convinced Robin to wear pants, eventually. Still, it was nice to see a kid making a difference.

Although, the Boy Wonder hadn't been in Gotham for a while. He'd been spending more and more time with those "Titans" or whatever. Now he'd disappeared and been replaced by their new member, Nightwing.

Jason shook his head, trying to get back to the task at hand. His mom had been dead for over a year now. Damn drugs had got her. Last he'd heard from his dad, he was working for Puke-face. Hadn't been seen for over a month. Luckily, the street urchin knew the ins-and-outs of this place and had long gotten used to taking care of himself.

One thing he'd learned: you could get decent money for tires. And watching the Batmobile cruise through every night gave Jason an idea.

10 minutes later

"C'mon…"

Jason was currently at work dislodging the third tire. The Batmobile was tougher than most cars but the kid was slowly making headway. He just hoped he could finish the job before…

"Unreal."

As the visage of Batman towered over him, Jason Todd had a feeling his life was about to change forever.

AN: Gerry Conway and Don Newton are credited as the creators of Jason Todd. The "unreal" line is from Batman: Under the Red Hood. I got the Puke-Face name from Two-Face from Tim Drake in TNBA.

All Cassandra knew was pain, destruction, and death. Which is why she was so surprised that this Batman had no intention of killing her father.

The Batman and David Cain were locked in an intense struggle. As she'd been taught all her life, her father David was going for the kill. Batman was fighting for his life but his body language didn't indicate that he intended to end his foe. Ra's Al Ghul had been sending assassins to test the Dark Knight's mettle and she and her father were on deck.

Her father went for a low blow by taking hostages and booby-trapping the surrounding area. Should her father fail, she would step up to fight the Detective next.

This escapade had taught Cassandra that Batman had a weakness her father did not: Compassion.

And as Cassandra eyed a teary-eyed hostage on the corner of the roof, she realized she might have the same fatal flaw.

So when Cassandra stopped what would have been her father's killing blow, she realized that that weakness was really a strength after all.

AN: Cass is another character I don't know as well and found harder to write. Basically, watching Batman sparks Cass' compassion and eventually sets her down the path of being a hero.

Crest Hill, Drake Manor

"Mr. and Mrs. Drake? I'm Bruce. I just wanted to introduce myself to the new neighbors."

The epitome of grace and roguish charm, Bruce Wayne stood on the Drake Family lawn as if he belonged there, wearing slacks, a white dress shirt, and shades to ward off the early Saturday morning sunshine.

"Of course! I'm Jack. Jack Drake. This is my wife, Janet. And this wide-eyed kid is my son Tim."

The aforementioned boy was fiddling with his smartphone, shyly avoiding Mr. Wayne's gaze.

Jack took the device from his son's hands and nudged him towards their guest. "Now, Timmy, be polite. Say hello to Mr. Wayne."

"Hi, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce's grin took on a more earnest look as he bent down to shake the young boy's hand.

"Bruce!"

A limo pulled up in the driveway driven by the Wayne Family butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Bruce Wayne's ward, Dick Grayson, stepped out of the car and dashed over.

"I thought you were gonna wait for me before you started creeping out the neighbors." Dick turned to the Drake family. "Trust me guys, all the rumors…are true. But hey, I'm the one who has to live with him."

That elicited laughs from the family and even Alfred seemed to find Dick's humor at his Master's expense amusing.

Bruce gave a longsuffering sigh of resignation while Dick just beamed, enjoying getting a rise out of his mentor. "And this is my oh-so-charming ward, Dick Grayson."

"Why don't you two come inside for some refreshments?" Janet offered. "You too, Mr. Pennyworth. You can meet our housekeeper Mrs. Mac."

10 minutes later

The two families were inside the living room, drinking iced tea and eating muffins while Alfred and Mrs. Mac discussed the perils of caring for the idle rich.

Tim sat awkwardly off to the side, unsure of what to say. Dick seemed to be having similar trouble and suggested he and Tim hang out together.

"So, little guy, what do you think of the neighborhood so far?"

"S'okay." Tim shrugged.

"That was my reaction, too." Dick nodded. "Trust me, you're gonna want to go into the city. It gets pretty boring out here."

Another silence fell between them when Tim's voice broke it: "We've met before, you know."

"We have?"

"At the circus. The night that…" the kid trailed off awkwardly.

"Oh." Dick realized. "Oh."

Sensing the sadness this brought on, Tim hastily tried to change the subject. "Forget that I…"

"No, it's okay." Dick ruffled Tim's hair. "I guess I'd forgotten everything else that happened that day. Something like that defines you, you know?"

Tim couldn't say for sure whether it was by chance or by fate that he saw the look in Dick's eyes.

He seemed to be somewhere else, far away in the safe confines of the Big Top and his parent's arms. He was lost in the memories, in some dark place Tim couldn't follow.

From some rare candid photos he'd seen, Bruce Wayne had that same intensity and fire behind his eyes. Fire that hinted at raw emotions dragging him into the abyss every day. Or every night.

Knowing the man also had parents whose light had been snuffed out far too soon, Tim couldn't help but wonder how Bruce and Dick coped with such tragic pasts.

And yet little hints…hunches here and there…and reasonable conclusions led Tim to have some sort of idea.

As quickly as the older boy's expression darkened, it passed like it had never been there. Tim still saw it, though. Dick wasn't as good at hiding it as his mentor.

"Hey, Dick…I was wondering…there was this move you did that I remember loving."

Dick turned his gaze down on Tim with a bright smile. "Yeah?"

"A quadruple somersault. I don't think I've seen anybody else pull that off."

Dick's lips quirked up in fond remembrance. "That's because no one else can. Only us fabulous Flying Graysons could."

"Would you mind showing me?"

"Sure, kiddo. Why not?"

As the acrobat showed off his skills, Tim was becoming even more sure of his theory. The only other person he'd seen move with that grace and skill was Robin.

His suspicions deepened the more he got to know the Wayne Family over the years. For one, tires squealing late at night. Mr. Pennyworth had explained it away effortlessly.

"Just Master Dick's motorcycle. Master Bruce is also prone to late joyrides."

Bruce Wayne's tendency to go through the motions and leave early at every function the Drakes hosted. Especially when the Bat-Signal went up in the sky.

The fractures in Bruce and Dick's relationship correlating with Robin spending more time with the Teen Titans. Once Dick left for college, Robin disappeared as well replaced by the mysterious Nightwing.

Bruce Wayne adopting a new boy and a new Robin following not long after. The paralysis of Barbara Gordon made waves in Gotham City. Tim couldn't help but notice Bruce Wayne grow more morose. But the death of Jason Todd was a shockwave. Bruce Wayne became a recluse and Batman grew more violent and withdrawn. Robin hadn't been seen for a while, either.

The now 14 year old Tim Drake knew he had to make a decision.

Wayne Manor

KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Ah, Timothy. Good morning, lad. Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah, Alfred. I need to talk to Mr. Wayne."

"Forgive me, Timothy. Master Bruce is rather…indisposed, at the moment."

"I see. Well, when he's disposed again, would you let him know I stopped by?"

Alfred opened his mouth to reply when another voice chimed in: "Ditto for me too, Alfie."

"Master Dick!"

"Hey, Alf. Tim. I came by to check on Bruce, too. I know it's been a while but I figured I should make a visit." He said, glancing meaningfully at Alfred.

"'Yes, of course. Why don't you two go out back to the gazebo while I see if I can rouse Master Bruce?"

Gazebo

"I think we're here for the same reason, Dick."

"Because Bruce is suffering from empty nest syndrome?" he tried to joke.

"Yeah." Tim answered. "A nest full of Robins."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know, Dick. Quadruple somersaults, late night joyrides, Dynamic Duo. All of it."

Dick's expression seemed like he wanted to laugh it off, but knew Tim was too smart to fall for it. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want to help."

"No." Dick said firmly. "You're a smart kid, Tim. A good kid. Don't bring this type of pain into your life if you don't have to."

"Batman needs Robin. Even if it's got to be me."

"You think you're qualified?"

"I don't see you jumping at the chance."

"That part of my life is over."

"Is it really? Nightwing?"

"I'm not going back into Bruce's shadow."

"Well, right now he's drowning in his own."

"That's his choice. He dresses up as a giant Bat mourning his dead parents. The guy has issues letting go. Especially since…" the older boy choked up for a second and then regained his composure, speaking quieter now, "I'm trying to move on."

"And forget all about him?"

"Of course not!" the vigilante retorted angrily. "God, no. I'm trying to move on for Jason. I came to encourage Bruce to do the same."

"Well, so have I."

"It's rarely that simple."

The boys turned to see Bruce Wayne hobble towards them in a bathrobe, looking haggard, pale, and worse for wear.

Bruce sat down at the table. "How long?"

"Suspected since the first visit. A little longer before that. Nothing concrete."

"My answer is no."

"But I got a stake in this!"

"I said no."

"Look, Bruce, Gotham needs you at your best. And clearly you're at your best when you have a partner out there with you. Maybe Batman isn't Batman without Robin."

"I was Batman for a good long while before Robin was ever in the picture." He shook his head with a sour expression of regret. "Maybe there should have never been one in the first place."

Turning to go back inside, he muttered, "Maybe there shouldn't have been a Batman either."

"Bruce, you don't mean that." Dick interjected. "Batman is who you are. You've told me countless times that Bruce Wayne died in that alley with his parents. And even though we have our differences, Gotham needs you. Don't quit. But don't use it as an excuse to take out your pain on everyone else, either."

"Look, Bruce." Tim spoke out. "I'm still a believer in the Batman. Even if you're not."

Bruce looked down at the floor. Steeling his resolve, the fire returned to his eyes.

"There he is." Dick smiled upon seeing the look in his mentor's eyes. He turned to the younger boy. "Well, kid, looks you brought him back. Tim Drake, meet Batman."

"Hi, Batman. I think you found your new Robin."

Although he was subsequently kicked out with a stern warning, in the final analysis, Tim thought it all worked out in the end.

AN: This was one of my favorite ones to write especially since Tim is my favorite Robin and I love that he figured so much out on his own. Dick was easier to write here than in his own segment. Mrs. Mac is also featured in Knightfall. The "I got a stake in this!" line is something Tim said in his first appearance in TNBA. "It's rarely that simple" is from Return of the Joker when Bruce recovers from Joker's attack. My image of Bruce was molded from his ragged appearance in Knightfall. John Blake from TDKR was a big inspiration for Tim's dialogue at the end.

Bruce and Dick have differences of opinion come to a head. Dick sees the real cost of being Batman. Feels there's a better way. Titans, Nightwing, his own Batman.

The first time Dick Grayson got his first real look at the Batman, he was 16 years old. Oh, he'd seen glimpses, had conversations, worked with him for years. Bruce Wayne had been his father figure since he was 10 years old. But the Batman was something else entirely.

Wayne Manor, Batcave

"I don't believe it." Dick Grayson whispered angrily to himself.

For the past hour, he had been going through encrypted files on the Batcomputer. Bruce had been pushing him harder lately and after a snarky comment about his hacking needing some work, the Boy Wonder thought he'd try his hand at a real challenge. The last firewall code had been the date of his parent's deaths and the time that they died. A little predictable, but he doubted Bruce ever expected him to try this.

His mentor had been doing some workouts in the training area and was just now exiting a long shower. Even though he couldn't hear his footsteps, he'd known him long enough to sense his presence.

Without turning from the screen, Robin asked, "So when were you going to tell me, Bruce?"

Bruce's expression was unreadable as he gazed at the computer screen. "I see your computer skills are improving."

"Cut the crap. Contingency plans against the League? Kryptonite? Secret Joker files? And Barbara is Batgirl?! When was I going to be let in on any of this?"

"When I thought you could handle it." Bruce returned, voice rising a little. He turned his back and continued toweling his hair. "Which clearly you can't."

Dick rose out of the chair and stalked behind Bruce as he headed towards the chamber where the suits were kept. "You have to trust people sometimes, Bruce! This is crazy and obsessive. Do you really think Clark or anyone would turn against Earth?"

Still not turning, Bruce did some final checks on his equipment. "I don't know, Dick. But I never thought Harvey Dent would become a maniac who nearly beat you to death when you were a child, either."

"That's different." Dick insisted.

"Why?"

"Because…" Dick fumbled for words. "As great a man as he was, he was just that. A man. As much as you want to think you are, men aren't invincible and we're prone to mistakes."

"So what you're saying is the Justice League is full of gods among men and thus, infallible?"

"Well…"

"And tell me, Dick…" Bruce began putting on his body armor. "What can us mortal men do if the gods decide to lash out?"

"That won't happen."

"Is that supposed to be good enough for me? As much I'd like to, I can't take your word for that, Dick."

"So, what, the only reason you think me and Alfred aren't going to go psycho is because we live under your roof where you can watch our every move?"

Bruce sighed and winced while putting on his utility belt. "I didn't say that."

"You don't have to. That's the reason you won't let Barbara in, right? She's something and someone you aren't sure you can control. Her hacking skills are better than both of us combined. Knowing you, you're afraid she doesn't take the mission seriously enough."

The older man said nothing as he put on his chestpiece.

"I'm right, aren't I? I also saw that you're considering Jason for being Robin? How soon before you push me out?"

Attaching his cape, Bruce answered, "We both see the writing on the wall, Dick. You're spending more and more time with the Titans. I assumed you'd be moving on soon."

"You could have at least asked me first! Robin was my idea! It's not yours to give or take away!"

"I thought you would understand: Jason needs something to put all his anger into. Why not channel it for good the same way you did? You have all the tools you need to succeed out there, Dick! As Robin or not. You'll be 17 soon. You're leading a team of your own, excelling at school…soon, you won't need me around to tell you what to do."

Dick paused, touched by his father figure's faith in him. "I appreciate that, Bruce. I may not need you in my ear all the time, but I'll never not want you around. You can't get rid of me that easily, old man."

Bruce finally turned towards him, his eyes shining with bittersweet emotions. "I know that. But you and I are different people, Dick. I'm not trusting like you. As much as I'd like to be sometimes, I'm not. And I don't think I ever will be. The Kryptonite has paid off before. Deep down, I don't think the Justice League will ever turn on us. But I can't take that chance. I just can't." He slipped on the cowl and his voice took on a harder edge. "Batman doesn't take chances. At least not ones he hasn't calculated to the last detail."

Batman began moving towards the Batmobile when Dick's voice stopped him. "So crashing the League Satellite last week? Or the time you took a bullet for me? Adopting a klepto kid stealing your tires? Those were all calculated risks."

"No." He turned with the ghost of a smile. "But I'd do all of them again in a heartbeat." Batman walked back towards his ward, pushing back his cowl. "I've been pushing you so hard because I know I won't be around forever. I'll get too old, too slow. Some punk might get lucky. Maybe…"

Robin followed his eyes towards the grinning image of the Clown Prince of Crime on the computer screen.

"You can't let him stay inside your head, Bruce. It's not healthy."

"I know. I just can't help but wonder…"

"I'm fine, Bruce." His ward assured him, flexing his shoulder out of habit.

Bruce still caught himself wincing every time Dick did that. During their last encounter with the Ace of Knaves, Joker had shot him there. Bruce couldn't even remember the beatdown he'd given him in retaliation. All he remembered was fear for his boy's life and the rage. His paranoia of Joker's inevitable escape only increased.

"It's just…if something should happen to me…I want you to do it. If you can."

Dick didn't have to ask what he meant. He'd been preparing for it for years, knowingly or not.

"And if you do…don't be like me. Trust people. Let things go. Compromise. I do all this so you won't have to."

Dick gave his father a smile and almost considered giving him a hug when an alert caught their attention.

"Vicki Vale, we have reports that Victor Zsasz has broken out of Blackgate Penitentiary. Suspect is armed and dangerous."

"I assume you have homework?"

"Yeah."

"Alfred will be home soon with Jason. Make sure he does his and eats dinner."

"I'm guessing even if we left you some, you wouldn't eat it?"

"Don't wait up."

"I had to ask." Dick sighed. "Be safe out there, ok?"

Bruce pulled down the cowl. "Always."

The Bat once again engulfed the persona of Bruce Wayne in a manner Dick knew all too well. Seeing that look again, Dick knew he could never be that. he wasn't sure if anyone could. There had to be another way.

The Batmobile roared to life and squealed out into the night.

That night, Dick Grayson saw the full magnitude of what it meant to be Batman. The pain, the mistrust, the control, the loneliness, the never-ending war on crime. And he knew he didn't want it.

Though the young man had a sinking suspicion it would become his destiny all the same.

Years later

"Grayson, hurry up!"

"Don't push him, Demon."

Curling his lip with distaste for Bruce's progeny, Tim brushed Damian aside and stood at Dick's shoulder.

"You sure you're ready for this?"

The elder man glanced at Damian garbed as his first identity of Robin the Boy Wonder. Then looked at Tim, the newly-christened Red Robin. And then somberly turned his gaze to the cowl of the Bat.

Who would've thought he and Bruce would inspire so many others to take up their mantles? He hoped Tim and Little D wouldn't have to carry this burden, though it hadn't helped him.

Steeling his resolve and upon receiving a sad nod from Alfred, Dick pulled on the mask of the Bat.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

A/N: This was a little tough to write. From only watching the animated series, I thought Dick to be a bitter, angry character with a chip on his shoulder. Reading more and doing more research, I've found their relationship to be less gloomy than I thought. Since Dick has known Bruce for most of his life, I figured that Batman would become a symbol of his differences compared to Bruce which I tried to cover. Bruce's paranoia is a huge factor here where I think Dick is more trusting. Bruce is trying to prepare for something like the world of Injustice. I hope I didn't make Bruce too much of a douche here and I tried to show how much he really does care. Crashing the League Satellite is a Starcrossed reference. Some punk who gets lucky is from "I Am the Night" of BTAS. The Two-Face beatdown is from Robin: Year One. I think I saw it in some Young Justice fics, but I love the idea that Jason was brought in by Bruce while Dick is still there. It makes for a more amicable passing of the torch happens instead of Bruce just handing the mantle to some other kid without Dick's input/approval. Also, Dick gets to know Jason better and thus, feel it more when he dies.

"How is he?"

"Not good, Jim." Commissioner Loeb said, shaking his head. "The kid's shaken up. What do you say to a kid whose whole world just collapsed right in front of him?"

Young Officer James Gordon had heard about the Wayne massacre earlier in the night. The city was on a manhunt for the killer. The Wayne boy had been brought to the GCPD. Branden and Flass had told Jim to sit this one out, so he wasn't left with much to do.

"Let me talk to him."

Wayne Policeman's Charity Gala, 15 years later

"Look at you, Bruce. All grown up. It's been a long time."

"It's good to see you, Sgt. Gordon. Traveling the world gave me perspective. I had to see what else was out there. But it's good to be home."

Bruce Wayne's return was the talk of the town. After the night his parents were murdered, Jim had tried to keep an eye on the boy. He'd become a little reclusive, withdrawn, and closed off. Nothing like the boy who was described to him before Crime Alley.

And Jim could never forget the look in his eyes that night. There was deep, tragic pain and confusion. But there was also a fire. A fire that made Jim pity whoever it was meant for.

And then, miraculously, the kid got better. And the teenage orphan decided to go globetrotting. The butler, Alfred Pennyworth, insisted it was good for him and that there was nothing for him in Gotham.

Some thought the heir to the Wayne fortune would never return. But here he was.

During the night, Jim would find himself stealing glances at Bruce looking for some semblance of that fire. He almost seemed too ditzy, too airy and carefree. And it hadn't escaped his notice that Bruce barely touched his champagne or any alcohol, merely being polite. It looked like ginger ale was the only thing he would finish off.

If it were anyone else who lacked a detective's eye and Jim's penchant for reading people, Bruce Wayne's act would be impossible to see through. But Jim had a gut feeling there was more to Bruce Wayne than he let on. Wayne would only let you see what he wanted you to see.

And apparently, Jim noted as Wayne spilled his wine on the floor, it was a dimwitted party boy klutz without a care in the world. The only crack in that façade was how aggressively Wayne was pursuing becoming an active part of his company. That could be attributed to wanting to know what was happening with his money, but Gordon had a hunch it went deeper. He just didn't know how much so.

His thoughts were interrupted by a call on his radio. He and a few officers headed for the door to deal with the gang war happening in the Bowery. Jim could feel more than see Bruce Wayne's gaze boring into his back.

Bowery

"Branden, I don't think it's a good idea to go guns a-blazing into a populated area."

"Shut it, Gordon! Those animals are already doing the same! We fight fire with fire!"

Gordon rubbed the bridge of his nose. Branden was such a jackass. "Look, let's just give it 10 minutes, all right? I think our priority should be search and rescue when it comes to civilians."

"The civilians will be fine once we take out the scum lighting the place up. But fine. We give it 5 minutes." Branden declared with a pointed sneer. "Now get back behind the police line, Gordon. This is SWAT only."

Trudging to a secluded spot near an alley, Jim was really craving a smoke, though he promised Barbara he'd quit.

"Sergeant Gordon."

"What the hell?!" the detective peered behind him in the shadows to find two eyes staring back at him. "It's you."

The vigilante had been operating for a few months now. Batman had sent Gordon tips, messages, even helped him on a few cases. But a private conversation was uncharted territory.

"Falcone and Maroni's gangs are tearing the city apart. Sending your men in there blind is dangerous for them and the people living here."

"I tried to tell Branden but…"

"I'm going in, Gordon. I'll rescue who I can and pick off some of their men, anything to make your job easier."

Batman turned on his heel when Gordon called out, "Why?"

The Dark Knight turned with an all too familiar fire in his eyes. "Because Gotham's my city, too."

As the Caped Crusader sped into the night, James Gordon felt that fire sparking embers of hope he hadn't felt in a long time.

Gotham High

"So your Dad really knows Batman, Babs?"

"Not officially." Barbara said in a pitch-perfect imitation of her father's voice. "But yeah." She finished with a whisper.

"Being his biggest fangirl-or is it Robin's?—I'm guessing you've met him?"

"Nah. He's an 'urban legend'…"

"Designed to inspire fear into the criminal element." Commissioner Gordon finished. "Glad to see you've been paying attention."

"And that's my ride. See you later, Bette."

GCPD, 15 minutes later

"I have to make a stop, Barb. New case."

"Paperwork or clandestine meeting with the Dynamic Duo?"

Her father didn't reply as he went upstairs to his office.

"Your silence speaks volumes, Dad."

On the roof

"Word on the street is Penguin's crew got a new outpost in the Diamond District. I know the old bird's trying to look legitimate, but it still smells fishy to me."

"Hey, the quips are my thing, Commish."

Gordon's lip quirked at the Boy Wonder. "Be that as it may, I assume you two are looking into it."

"Robin and I will stake it out tonight. We know some of his old contacts. We'll look into those. Good night, Commissioner." Batman turned to exit the roof but stopped to glance at a dark corner of the roof. "Ms. Gordon."

The Commissioner whirled so quick his daughter feared he'd have whiplash. "Wha-?! Barbara!"

"Hiya." Barbara waved with a cheeky smile. She returned her gaze to Batman and Robin. "Nice to finally meet you guys in person. Big fan."

Robin gave her a wink. "Nice to get some appreciation."

Gordon cleared his throat. "I trust you have this handled, Batman. I assume you two might want to get a move on. C'mon, Barb." Jim began to gently pull his daughter towards the stairwell.

Barbara gave Batman and Robin one last look over her shoulder, sparing them a wave and giving the Boy Wonder a wink in return.

As she proceeded down the stairwell, the Commissioner pointed a finger of warning at the young lad. "Don't even think about it, Boy Wonder."

Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, Robin then turned to leap off the rooftop, Batman already gone as usual.

Downstairs

"Please keep this hush-hush, Barbara."

"Will do, Dad."

"And next time, young lady, I want you to stay in the car. If you're lucky, you will never have to see those two ever again. Am I clear?"

Fingers crossed behind her back, Barbara gave her father a grin of seeming acquiesce. "You got it, Commish."

Shaking his head at his daughter, he went to retrieve his jacket.

The Batmobile zoomed by in the street below and as Barbara watched it squeal into the night, she thought: 'Never's a long time, Dad.'

A/N: Barbara was another fun one to write. Gordon's warning to Robin is also from Robin: Year One.

Metropolis 12:25 PM

It was a beautiful day in the city of Metropolis, as usual. Superman was standing on top of the Daily Planet, listening to the sounds of the city. His colleague, Lois Lane, was having lunch with two fellow reporter friends. Namely Iris West and Vicki Vale. The city was quiet so the Man of Steel couldn't help eavesdropping a little.

"No way. You're serious. The Flash was flirting with you, Iris?" Lois said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"I think. I'll put up with it as long as he comes to me first for exclusives. He's kind of cute, though." Iris said, blushing a little.

"How could you tell under the mask?"

"I just have a feeling, Lois."

"You guys are lucky." Vicki interjected. "In Gotham, we barely see Batman much less get an interview with him. I don't even know what he sounds like. We barely have any good shots of him."

"Yeah, that's weird." Iris said, hand on her chin in thought. "At least our guys are a lot more transparent. But Batman almost doesn't seem real."

Lois took a pause from sipping her milkshake to jump back in. "Yeah, his only calling card seems to be a trail of bodies and that damn signal you guys shine every night."

"Commissioner Gordon says it's just to keep the bad guys on their toes. I'm willing to bet he knows em, though."

"Sounds like a story worth looking into." Lois said, a familiar twinkle in her eye.

"Hey." Vicki said, with a teasing smile of warning. "Gotham's my city, which makes Batman my story, Lo. Save some Pulitzers for the rest of us, huh?"

"Yeah," Iris smirked. "Besides, we all can't have our heroes float up to our balcony and tells us their life stories."

Lois' face flushed. "Hey, I'm a reliable source. What can I say?"

Superman smiled to himself in memory of that night. She wasn't lying. He knew Lois was the right person to tell his story.

Eager to steer the conversation from her rumored love life with Superman, Lois asked, "So from the shots you do have…Is Batman cute?"

Clark decided to tune out the rest of the conversation he was sure he didn't want to hear and picked up on his No. 1 fan Bibbo Bibbowski's voice: "Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Batman's got the cool car and the fancy gadgets. But my pal Superman's still number one in my heart."

It went on like this for the rest of the day. Batman was becoming the talk of the town. Clark was quickly deciding to keep a close eye on this Batman. And across the bay, Batman had decided to do the same for the mysterious immigrant from the stars who Gotham City had been talking about all night.

A/N: The ending is supposed to be slightly funny but I imagine these two would grow curious about each other and decide to meet and start their bromance after some fisticuffs. It never occurred to me before, but now I like to think the women reporters of the DC Universe would cross paths and possibly be girlfriends.

Selina Kyle always had an eye for the finer things in life. And never let it be said that she didn't progress with the times. People in costumes were becoming the norm. So she figured she might as well join the party. Catwoman had been plundering various Gotham exhibits the past month with no one able to catch her. She figured tonight would be no different.

"Another day, another bore." She sighed, eyeing her latest bauble.

"Don't be so sure."

Catwoman spun on her heel with a kick ready that Batman easily dodged.

"The Catwoman, I presume."

"And you must be Batman."

"Return the diamonds. Now."

"First, you'll have to chase me."

As she sprinted off with a jaunty laugh, and her pursuer gave chase, Selina got the feeling she wouldn't bore of her new plaything for a good long while.

Al Ghuls

"So Gotham's detective is Bruce Wayne."

It hadn't taken the Demon's Head long to piece together the facts into the only possible conclusion. What intrigued him far more were the exploits of this Batman. His skills were unparalleled. He was young, virile, single-minded, dogged, influential, brilliant and so much more. He had the makings of a great heir. Someone finally worthy to take on the mantle of Ra's Al Ghul.

Little-known to Ra's, his daughter was having similar thoughts herself. But of a variety that went a little deeper than admiration.

Follows Jim Gordon to the roof.

"So, Lieutenant, is it true that the Batman drinks blood or is that just a rumor?"

Lt. James Gordon sighed into his coffee mug. "I wouldn't know, Mr. Dent, I can't say I've gotten a chance to ask him."

Harvey Dent swiveled in his desk chair to look the cop in the eye. "Well, do you think you could ask him at your next clandestine meeting on the roof of the GCPD?"

"I've told you before, Dent, it's a…"

"…deterrent to criminal activity, so I've heard. I understand that you man the thing while it's on."

"You never know who might show up, Batman or some other freak."

"Then shouldn't you have backup? Why go up there all by yourself?" Harvey pressed.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Besides, we don't get any unwanted visitors. Just a precaution."

"I see."

"Always a pleasure, Harvey…" the Lieutenant rose and shook Harvey's hand, "…but I've got work to do."

As he walked out, Harvey noticed that night was beginning to fall.

"Yes, Jim, I suppose you do."

That night, GCPD rooftop

"I found out who our firebug is, Jim. His name is Garfield Lynns. Former special effects expert who dropped off the grid after one 'accident' too many."

Gordon took the proffered files from his ally and began giving them a look. "Thanks. We'll keep an eye out for him. I'll alert the rest of the force."

When he looked up, Batman was gone.

A voice rang out, "Now, Jim, I could have sworn I heard you talking to somebody."

"Harvey!" Jim said in surprise. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I wanted to ask my question in person…" Dent gave a onceover of the seemingly empty roof, "Do you drink blood, Batman?"

"Harvey, this is ridiculous. I already told you what I know. Quit pursuing this."

Harvey sighed. "Look, Jim, I'm sorry for the intrusion. But from what I gather, you're doing good work here. That's from him, I assume." He gestured to the files. "I just want to help. I figure you don't have too many friends on the force and I'm sure Batman could use some help now and again. I'm just offering my services. I can keep a secret, you can trust me."

Gordon hesitated, mulling it over.

Fortunately, he was spared making a choice when Batman seemed to melt out of the shadows. "I hope that's true, Mr. Dent."

Harvey recoiled, not being sure if he had still been there or not. "It-it-it is." He stammered. "You, me, Gordon. We could clean up this town. There's corruption in the legal system and the police department. Most of the people in this city who wear masks aren't nearly as altruistic as you. If we pool resources and knowledge, we could at least eliminate organized crime." He took a step back to address both men. "I can keep the heat off both of your backs and get information and secrets you two can't. At least not without illegal digging and making some enemies. Jim, you probably know a lot of things neither of us do. You can be the one out there, responding first and leading the cops." The DA turned his gaze fully to Batman. "And you...just keep doing what you're doing. You can cross lines we can't, go places we can't, without the consequences. You might be the lynchpin to all this. You have the experience to handle the psychos in this place and the mob."

The District Attorney spread his hands. "So, gentlemen, do we have a deal?"

"Master Bruce, I would urge you to reconsider this madness!"

"It has to be done, Alfred. I have to do this. Or else all of this was for nothing."

"That's what I'm afraid of, my boy." The butler exclaimed, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

For a moment, his charge seemed the lost boy he'd once been, then the world-weary teenage boy before once again becoming the determined and brash young man as well as something unfamiliar.

"No. I'm going. Meet me downstairs and have the equipment ready."

Alfred sighed, cursing himself for beginning the preparations for Master Bruce's suicide mission against his better wishes.

This was complete and utter lunacy. All the Master's training and knowledge would mean nothing when he was thrust into the thick of this dark city. If there was anything Alfred J. Pennyworth knew, it was the horror and danger of war. And that was what Bruce Wayne intended to wage on the Gotham underworld: war.

A war that, Alfred feared, would be without end. Bruce was determined to keep his circle of trust small. He alienated himself from connections and only at the butler's behest, did he agree to maintain a front for the public.

The only person Bruce Wayne trusted implicitly seemed to be his oldest friend. Which meant that Alfred was his confidant, and thus his enabler. Should something happen, Alfred didn't think he'd ever forgive himself. As he gazed at their portrait over the fireplace, he found it hard to believe Thomas and Martha could either.

"Please. I'm trying to protect him. But he won't listen to me. If I can't talk him out of it, I must talk him through it. Keep him alive until he realizes this was a mistake."

As he descended the steps into the "Batcave", Alfred felt a pit in his stomach. He couldn't bear the thought of sending Bruce to his demise.

Summoning his courage, he gave one last appeal to his surrogate son: "You don't have to do this, my boy. You have knowledge, resources, wealth, influence. There are other ways to save this city. Your parents understood that."

Wordlessly, Bruce took the utility belt and gauntlets. Leaving his hand out, he asked: "The cowl, Alfred?"

Like a selfish child, Alfred stubbornly held on to it. He felt if he allowed this final transformation, he would be pushing Bruce off the proverbial cliff.

"The cowl, Alfred." Bruce demanded in a tone new to the butler.

Resigned, Alfred handed it over, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all. But all those thoughts were banished when he turned around and met the eyes of a creature that was no longer Bruce Wayne.

As it stalked toward him, he couldn't help proclaiming: "My God!"

As the Dark Knight peeled out in his chrome steed, Alfred Pennyworth knew the Batman was unleashed. Heaven help whoever dared stand in his way.

AN: Mask of the Phantasm inspired this entire scene.

Bruce Wayne

Bruce didn't know what scared off his parents' killer that night. It very well may be one of the few mysteries the World's Greatest Detective could not solve. If ever pressed for an answer, Bruce thought it might have been the look in his eyes. A medley of terror and pain. And even then, a spark of his thirst for vengeance.

On that night, Bruce Wayne died and the Batman was born.

But Bruce hadn't met him yet. Batman introduced himself to the vessel known as Bruce Wayne little by little. Batman grew in strength during those first nights that Bruce was alone, when even Alfred had to sleep. He grew as the young heir to the Wayne fortune pored over texts of law, frustrated by the breeding of injustice it allowed to happen. He grew as the young Wayne read about historical figures and legends from the past, curious of their influence, mystery, and power. Batman nearly burst out of his fragile cage whenever the boy would overhear conversation about the "poor orphan boy", the freak who never played outside, or spent time with other children.

The boy grew into a young man who began to train himself in self-defense, pushing his body to its limits in search of some satisfaction, preparing himself for a mission he wasn't fully aware of yet. He started sinking his teeth into texts about detective work. Motivations, landmark cases, breakthroughs in forensics. Anything he thought would help.

It seemed that lacking his parents' influence, Gotham slowly but surely descended into even more of a cesspool than it already was. Or maybe it had always been that way. Without Thomas and Martha to shield him, Bruce feared that he was seeing the world as it truly was for the first time. And it was a world he refused to accept.

Initially hesitant due to the memories it brought up, Bruce nonetheless dove into his father's profession with earnest, studying medicine and healing. In the vein of his mother, he set his sights on philanthropy and its ins and outs. Business was naturally the next step and with Alfred's assistance, it was soon mastered as well.

Deep down, though, he knew something more drastic had to be done. A more dramatic example to shake Gotham out of her apathy.

At the age of 17, Bruce Wayne knew there was only so much he could learn in Gotham City. Thus, he decided that at 18, he would globetrot around the world and experience it, forging his destiny in a baptism by fire. It was the only way to achieve the peace and knowledge he sought.

He had to learn from the best if he was to be the best.

And he found them. In Japan. Nanda Parbat. Paris. Rome. And so many other places. He learned escapism from Zatara, espionage from Henri Ducard, the ways of the ninja and samurai. Even met some monsters along the way.

Upon his return home, he looked to his once-discarded childhood inspirations. Zorro and the Gray Ghost. Men of mystery and power. But most importantly: symbols.

Like the Bat that had crashed through his window the other night. They used to terrify him, but now it felt like a sign. Remembering his fall into the caves below his home years ago, Bruce set out to conquer his fear.

The caverns under Wayne Manor were dank and uninviting. Water droplets trickled down from stalactites hanging above. These hollows went deeper than Bruce ever suspected.

Even as an adult, these caves made Bruce Wayne feel insignificant. The darkness seemed to be trying to swallow him whole.

And maybe he should let it.

I'm not afraid this time.

"Come out! I know you're there!" He shouted into the darkness. "I'm not finished with you! And you're not finished with me!" He shut his eyes, remembering how his encounter with them here had haunted him his whole life. "You're never finished with me."

The silence was suffocating. Then, he heard it. Rustles in the darkness. Before he knew it, his senses were assaulted. The gnashing of teeth. The flutter of leather wings. The smell of fruit and guano.

It was just like before. But he was done being afraid of these creatures. To conquer his fear, he would have to become it. He stood undaunted inside the whirlwind of teeth and wings, arms spread wide, daring them to come closer. He closed his eyes and breathed it all in.

Yes, father. I shall become a bat.

And if one was there, they would have sworn they'd seen a shadow cast on the wall that was not Bruce Wayne.

After who knows how long, the swarm had disappeared as if it were never there. The man they left behind opened his eyes. He began to walk deeper into the caves and found a puddle clear enough to see one's own reflection. Bruce Wayne was no more.

Staring back at him through the reflection was the Batman, fully awakened from his gestation period.

I'm ready.

The Beginning?

A/N: I think this is the one I'm most proud of. The monsters reference is Etrigan/Swamp Thing. There are also some Dark Knight Returns and Year One references.

The title of this story is taken from the musical Batman: The Brave and the Bold episode "Mayhem of the Music Meister!" Highly recommend this episode.

So let me know what you guys think. Any input or advice would be much appreciated. I hope I was able to do a good enough job of representing these characters and how awesome Batman's universe is.