Author's note: Just a legal C.M.A., I don't own the characters or setting of my Dark Knight stories. If I did, I wouldn't be sitting in this cubicle writing for you; I'd be sipping a martini with Charlize Theron while discussing philosophy with Natalie Portman.
This is a sequel to Gotham Harvest; I'm not saying you have to read that one, but you might be a little confused around chapter 4 or 5 here otherwise.
Also, if you are looking for a story that keeps the comic book continuity, then this probably isn't for you. And now for your entertainment…----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A Gotham Night DrearyPrologue
The city is changing. He can feel it as the rain pounds into the rubber coating that bonds itself to his skin by sweat and, more often than not, blood. As the water slithers off to finish its journey to the ground, he thinks back to the word Jim Gordon used on the roof of the 41st precinct of the Gotham Police Department. What was that word?
Escalation.
The rain fades as sunlight explodes into beams of shrapnel as it rises above the water in Gotham Harbor. The faint streaks of light are painful to his eyes; he fleetingly thinks perhaps he should request sunglasses from the tailors next time.
This is the calm before the storm. He may only have succeeded in giving the criminal underworld a target against which to unify. This could be the thought of a man on the brink of exhaustion after standing vigil on a cold January night, or perhaps it portends of war to eradicate him.
The beacon rising in front of him is all that concerns him at the moment. He wonders how much longer he can stay. Not yet, the night isn't over yet. He backs under a cantilevered balcony as the encroaching light eats at the shadowy rooftop.
Just a few minutes more.
If only there were some action to take his mind away from the impending sunrise, something to burn away the doubt and insecurity that appears with the light of day. And yet, there is nothing, not even a wayward jaywalker.
Then there is no choice left. There is nothing left to do but assume the mantle of Bruce Wayne. And perhaps, sleep.