He sat on rickety wooden chair of the rather run down cafe. This cafe was owned by the Falcones, but Grayson was arranged to meet neither a Falcone, nor a Maroni, but a third party, a representative of a small gang in the Southern Market District- the word on the street was they had been supplying the other gangs with military grade weaponry. Thunder boomed. A storm was brewing in Gotham city.
A scrawny middle aged waitress came in with two cups of black coffee and a slice of raisin bread. When she came Dick couldn't help but notice she had a black eye and a partially healed busted lip.
As he scarfed down his third plate of stale raisin bread, a tall tooth-pick chewing man in a black trench coat walked through the door and made his way to the seat across Dick. The steam danced above the unsupervised coffee cups.
"I'm afraid we both know why you are here." the stranger said in a thick Italian accent .
"I'm hear to acquire weaponry for my employer."
The Stranger smiled, took the toothpick out of his mouth, and set it on the table.
"You can't fool us, Mr. Grayson."
The coffee steam began to cool to a stop. Dick had never told anyone his real name in this operation, he was compromised. Before he could react the stranger drew a pistol from his coat pocket. Dick made unbroken eye contact across the table, being careful not to directly look at the cocked pistol; Dick slid his hand under the table and reached for the batarang he kept in his boot, he grabbed it, planned his attack, brought it up and- . *click* a gun cocked behind him.
The waitress entered. She shrieked. BANG. She hit the floor. They slammed Dick's head to the table. The coffee cup shattered.
Ten days later:
The ear-piercing shrieks of bats echoed of the walls of the Batcave. Oracle anxiously awaited the Batcomputer results. A body was found; no head, no hands, burnt beyond recognition. "Computer analysis 25%". Barbara fiddled to her engagement ring. Dick went missing and with every body washing up in the Gotham river, she expected the worst"Computer analysis 50%". She didn't know which thought was worse, if the body was his, or if it wasn't.
"Computer analysis 75%".
A memory stirred.
With working legs, Barbara Gordon patrols the rooftops of Gotham as Batgirl. She wears jeans, a modified Halloween mask, and a bullet proof vest stolen from her dad's office with a yellow bat spray-painted on covering the "GCPD" insignia. She hears a blood curdling scream. Gracefully she leaps building to building through the dark Gotham night.
Three men. They surround a woman in an alley. Barbara pounces from the high roof tops. She lands on one of the muggers, breaking her fall- and his ribs. She smashes her fist into another's face. SLASH! Barbara's arm spews blood. She didn't see the knife. WHACK! Barbara smashes against the ground. BAM! BASH! Barbara lies in a puddle of her own blood. She looks up. The man is standing over her. He reaches into the pocket of his question-mark covered jacket and draws a gun. Barbara closes her eyes. He cocks the gun.
CRACK!
Barbara opens her eyes to see a boy standing over the limp, unconscious body of the thug. A boy in red and green armor. Dick Grayson: The Robin.
"Computer analysis 100%".
The DNA report was complete. Barbara read it. She pressed the large red emergency button broadcasting a message to all vigilantes in their international network of justice:
"Nightwing is dead."
Oracle moved her wheelchair to the elevator and wiped away her running mascara as she arrived to the manor above.
Bruce was sitting in his office. He didn't cry when he heard the news. He nodded and thanked Barbara for telling him. He hugged her, more for her sake, she collapsed into him, and he didn't move. Barbara had learned to expect Bruce's cold apathy- but it was Dick. He was family. Oracle left the room, leaving Bruce with his thoughts.
Bruce poured himself a glass of Whiskey and looked out of the window of his office, overseeing the Martha Wayne Gardens, she was buried there, so was Bruce's father, and Jason, and Alfred. Bruce downed the whiskey.
The docks. Rain pounded on the pavement. The body had been found here. The docks were owned by Carmine Falcone, or as the Gotham criminal network knew him, "The Roman". Going after Falcone was suicide, even for Batman. The target was Alberto Falcone, the Roman's son. He lived in a penthouse overlooking the harbor. It was one of the tallest buildings in Gotham. Thermal signatures showed six people.
Batman perched himself on a gargoyle of a cathedral across from Alberto's penthouse. After attaching a gas mask extension to his mask, he pressed the EMP trigger on his belt. In mere seconds, one by one, every light within a three block radius went out.
SMASH! Batman burst through the windows throwing gas canisters in every direction. The backup generator started. The smoke cleared, showing the occupants of the room:
five men tied to chairs and covered in bruises, and woman in a leather catsuit and a gas mask.
"You're starting to get predictable." Selina Kyle said as she walked towards the Dark Knight.
He didn't say anything.
"Bruce, listen-"
"Selina, leave or- "
"Or what, you'll take me to Arkham?"
Batman grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her against wall. "I'm not in the mood, Selina." He let go and moved past the unconscious guards, towards Alberto Falcone.
Selina turned to him "Bruce, I know about Dick."
Batman stopped. The last of the smoke had cleared the room.
Selina removed her gasmask " I know what you want to do, but someone else can pick this up. Green Arrow- Red Tornado- any of them. Please just call this one off. Go home."
Batman removed his mask and turned to Selina, "You know I can't do that Selina." "He was my son, he deserves justice!"
"You don't want justice, Bruce. When you find the man who did this, what do you plan to do to him?"
"Good night, Selina," Batman said making his way to Alberto.
Wuh-PSHH!
Selina's whip wrapped around Batman's throat.
"This city has taken everything from me, Selina! EVERYTHING! HE TRUSTED ME TO KEEP HIM SAFE!"
"Bruce, it isn't your fault. Don't follow this- this isn't just any crime, you of all people should know what revenge does to a person."
"You know I can't do that, Selina."
"Just promise me you won't break any of your rules."
Rain poured through the broken window. Batman put his cowl back on and grabbed the unconscious Alberto, by his blood stained collar. "I'm going to find out what he knows." He began to lift the body over his shoulder.
BANG!
Blood poured from Falcone's limp arm. Smoke danced off the tip of the revolver in Selina Kyle's hand.
"Next, one goes into his head, unless you promise."
Batman set Alberto down, and applied pressure to the wound. "Selina, What did you do! if I don't get this man medical attention he's going to bleed out!"
"Promise!"
She took aim again.
A batarang flew, slicing across Selina's hand. The revolver slid across the room. Batman leaped for her. She dodged him. She tackled him and pinned him down. SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! Her claws ripped his face open. He pushed her off. She reached for the gun. He kicked it away. She swung at him. He dodged. He swung at her. She dodged. She jumped at him. He grabbed her by the neck, lifting her off the ground, his grip tightened squeezing, choking her.
She tried to speak. She tried to pry his hands off. He was too strong. Selina kicked her legs, struggling to break free. Her eyes felt on the verge of popping. Her face began to turn blue. "Bruce!" she croaked.
He let go.
She collapsed, gasping.
He stood in horror. He didn't mean to-
"What makes you different from them?" she gasped. "Isn't that why you don't, kill? What's the difference between them and a couple walking away from the theater with their son?"
Bat left with Alberto's limp body. The rain dragged the blood down Bruce's face. Seline laid massaging her neck on broken glass alone in the shambles of the apartment.
It was a quiet night In Gotham city.
Alberto Falcone woke up in cold place he felt handcuffs on his wrists and blindfold over his eyes. A surge of Pain rang in his arm. He could tell it was wrapped in a cloth. He couldn't remember what happened- was it Catgirl? Maybe Batwoman? BASH! Alberto's head collided with the hard stone floor!
"WAKE UP!" a deep booming Voice demanded.
Some two bit punk's trying to act tough, he thought.
"Do you KNOW who I AM? I am A FALCONE I can-"
CRACK!
Alberto could feel the boot push harder and harder on his ribcage.
"THERE WAS A BODY FOUND ON THE DOCKS! WHO KILLED HIM!" the voice shouted.
"There's a lot of bodies in the docks, hell if I know! "
The boot came off his chest, he suddenly felt his collar grabbed and lifted up
a cold metal instrument went into his open mouth and clamped to a back tooth
"WRONG ANSWER!" the voice yelled as the clamp yanked and yanked until It tore out his tooth. His mouth filled with blood. His raw open nerves pulsed with pain.
"Oh god, please stop!"
"A BURNT CORPSE WITHOUT A HEAD OR HANDS-TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!"
"They'll kill me!"
Alberto felt the gloved hand push him off the edge of something, being held only by one hand on his ankle. He felt his blindfold get torn off. He stared down the side of a hundred story building. The cars looked like ants. Holy shit, he thought, Batman. Alberto's screams echoed through the city. The grip on Alberto's leg loosened.
"The PENGUIN! The Penguin's guys do that to their corpses!"
"This is my favorite part." The voice said, cool and calm. The grip broke. Alberto Falcone fell, hurdling down the side of the building screaming toward the Gotham traffic.
-Suddenly a claw reached out and grabbed him. The tension jolted him until- SMASH! He slammed against a window, suspended dangling above the street.
"WAIT! You're gonna get me down, right?!" He shouted dangling off the side of a skyscraper.
"That's funny."