All that's Left…
A/N: Just a little one-shot set during the flashback scene in Mask of the Phantasm when Bruce puts on the cape and cowl for the first time. It's basically from Bruce's POV. I recommend watching the movie to fully appreciate this fic, though it's not absolutely necessary to understand it.
Everything he had ever loved had been taken from him.
His parents. Andrea.
His happiness…
And now he knew there was only one path open to him.
He had to go back to the mission. Back to the plan…
He had made a vow. A promise on the graves of his parents that he would rid Gotham City of the evil that had violently taken their lives. And for years, he'd done his best to fulfill that promise…until she came along and messed up his plan.
But now, she was gone. And the different life, the happier life he might have lived with her, was a locked door. It was fate. There was no obstacle left in his path, nothing to stop him. Nothing would ever interfere with the plan again!
And the plan was to strike fear into the hearts and minds of criminals. It had been his one weakness thus far…the one aspect his training had not covered. But he knew now what he could do to remedy the situation. He had seen the creatures which could evoke such fear. And he knew that in order to evoke such fear himself, he would have to reinvent himself as that creature…
So he went down into the cave. The cave beneath Wayne Manor that was home to the very creatures he had chosen to imitate. How portentous it was that he would become one of them in their own home!
Alfred reluctantly brought the suit. He had been shocked at the idea of it. He had been convinced that his employer, and his charge, had gone over the edge. But he was loyal; he of all people knew what Bruce had been through since his parent's death. He alone knew the extent of Bruce's dedication to the path he had chosen for himself. So he came around in the end…
He put on the grey bodysuit first. The fabric felt cool against his body. Then he slipped on the black shorts. Then the boots and the cape. And then the gloves and the belt. As he slipped on each layer, he was ever aware of the fact that it was not merely a change of attire. He was fundamentally changing himself with each move he made!
Wordlessly, he gestured to Alfred for the cowl. Alfred brought it to him, and placed it in his hands. He hesitated for a second; staring down at the new face he had created for himself. And then he slipped it on…
At that moment, he felt something inside him fundamentally change…
He turned around and saw Alfred's frightened expression. Saw the gasp escape his butler's lips as he recoiled in sheer terror. If that was the effect on a man who knew what the monstrosity he faced really was, imagine the effect on a cowardly and superstitious thug who knew no better…
And as he walked away into the deeper depths of the cave, he felt like a different animal. A different creature altogether. He felt like a predator in a concrete jungle of corruption, just like a bat was a predator in the darkness of a cave. He realized at that moment that he was no longer flesh and blood. He was no longer Bruce Wayne. He was now an idea. A legend. A soon-to-emerge phenomenon. An urban myth.
He was BATMAN…