Author's note: I promise I won't inundate you with pointless information, but I just figured I'd drop some continuity stuff here.
This does not take place in any pre-established DC continuity. This story and any sequels I write will be have some similarities to the main canon, but I'll take liberties where I feel it's necessary for the story I'm trying to tell.
I'll be drawing liberally from both the Post-Crisis comic continuity and various adaptations (especially the DCAU).
I know it's highly improbable that I'll get very far with this, but ideally this will be the first in a long series of fics. There will be "Phases" which advance the status quo (this is Phase One, later phases will start adding non-Batman fics), and standalone stories which will be more episodic until I put out the next phase. I have outlines for seven phases, introducing Justice League stories in Phase Two, and Teen Titans stories in Phase Three.
For now, this particular story takes place about a year into Batman's career.
Monday, December 26, 2016 – 10:15 PM – The Englehart Apartment Building, Gotham City, New Jersey, United States – Earth-0
It was a chilly December night in Gotham City when the Batman changed everything a second time. Change was something Gotham wasn't used to. In fact, the place had barely changed since the forties. For one thing, it was still run by old-fashioned mobsters, complete with pinstripe suits, fedoras, and over-the-top accents. Even the slang had barely changed. That was before the Batman.
The first time, he'd changed everything just by existing. The mobs suddenly had an external force to worry about. The police weren't all corrupt, maybe not even half of them, but the corrupt ones made up the half that was in charge.
While they were inclined to look the other way when it came to most of the mobs' activities, they were specifically in the pocket of city councilman Rupert Thorne. Thorne, in turn, had been in the pocket of the Bertinelli mob until he had their leading family killed. Police Commissioner Loeb was Thorne's main stooge in the GCPD, while Sal Maroni, a former lieutenant of the Bertinellis, managed his criminal enterprises.
And it was under Sal Maroni's watch that the Batman made his big move. Every month, Maroni held a meeting in a different apartment, where he would explain to his enforcers the details of who was up to date on their payments, who wasn't, and who needed to disappear. This was one such meeting.
The room had been cleared of all furniture, except for a large oak table placed in the middle of the tiled floor, covered with the numerous papers and folders that contained the orders for Maroni's enforcers.
Maroni sat with his left side to the door, so that he could watch it, but wasn't blocked from it. His four associates were gathered around the table, three armed guards stood watch, and two more were outside the door. They had just come to the primary subject of the meeting.
"So, Freddy," said Maroni, "How's our nosy friend?"
Maroni referred to Police Captain James Gordon, who had recently launched an investigation into Thorne's operations.
"Sal, the guy just won't take the money," Freddy said, "I dunno what to do with him!"
Maroni leaned back in his chair and grimaced.
"That's a real shame, Freddy," he said, "I guess he'll just have to have an accident."
Maroni reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
"Want a smoke?" he asked.
Freddy started to refuse, but discovered that he had little choice in the matter when a small round object crashed through the window, landing on the table. All of the mobsters jumped up from their chairs at the sight, and the little sphere began to emit a cloud of smoke. Soon, the dark, choking gas filled the room, and one of the guards stumbled to the broken window for a breath of fresh air.
Instead, he was confronted by a flying demon. A vast, shadowed creature with billowing leathery wings and elongated ears. That, or an eccentric billionaire in a bat costume. The two had already proven easy to confuse.
Either way, the other mobsters' only indication of Batman's arrival, obscured as it was by the thick smoke, was the sound of his landing on top of the unfortunate guard.
Maroni jumped up and scrambled for the door as Batman rushed another guard. He seized the man's gun and struck his head with the butt before dropping both. Freddy, by this point, had realized what was happening and pulled a gun on Batman. It didn't do him much good as he could not, in fact, see Batman until he'd been punched in the face.
Two more of the enforcers had followed Maroni out the door as Batman grabbed the last and slammed his head into the table. He ran to follow Maroni, but the third guard attempted to tackle him.
Batman backhanded the guard into Freddy's chair and moved to the door. He would have had no way of knowing that there were two more guards waiting outside had he not scouted out the meeting before attacking.
As it stood, he even knew which way the door swung: outward and right into one guard's face. Batman then grabbed the other guard's gun, and shoved the man to the ground. The first guard then came around the door, and Batman knocked him to the floor as well and proceeded to chase Maroni and the two enforcers down the stairs.
One enforcer turned around at the bottom of the stairs, and pulled a handgun. Batman leapt off the top and glided straight into the enforcer's chest. He guessed the second man would also try to stop him. So, he had a batarang prepared.
Batman threw it at the last enforcer, throwing off his aim. Batman ran and grappled with the man. Then, he swept the enforcer's legs from under him, and he was thrown down to the ground.
Batman ran out the door after Maroni, but Maroni's car was driving off. He reached down to his utility belt to call the Batmobile, but then he heard the sirens echoing through the dark streets of Gotham. If the police got to the evidence first, there was a good chance it would be "lost."
Batman couldn't risk that. He was after something in particular. He went back inside the building, through the lobby and up the stairs, ignoring the man cowering behind the front desk. When he reached the top floor, one of the guards was starting to get up. He kicked the man in the back and went into the meeting room.
He picked up a letter off of the table.
"Maroni-
I don't know what the hell your man is doing, but he's not helping me. Gordon is still on my ass. If you don't deal with this soon, he's going to dig something up, and if I know him, he'll take it to the feds. I don't care what you have to do, just get him the hell off my back!
-Loeb
P.S. Raided the Iceberg Lounge again. I'll give Cobblepot one thing: the man can make himself look cleaner than Mr. Thorne's new car. We've still got nothing, and the Penguin's pissed."
This was everything Batman needed. He would drop it off with the FBI and leave a copy for the Gotham Gazette as insurance.
He heard a car pull up outside. He looked out the window, and saw that it was a police cruiser. This called for a speedy exit. He drew his grapnel gun, aimed it at the building across the street, and fired it. It flew through the previously-broken window and hooked onto a ledge near the top of the other building, pulling Batman across.
Friday, December 30, 2016 – 6:04 PM – GCPD Headquarters, Gotham City, New Jersey, United States – Earth-0
Commissioner James Gordon tapped his fingers on his desk. He, and the two other men in his new office, were all thinking of the same question. They were just waiting for someone to ask it. District Attorney Harvey Dent took the initiative.
"So, what are we going to do about the Batman?" he asked.
"I don't see how we have to do anything," replied Chief Clancy O'Hara.
Gordon and O'Hara had been moved up as the GCPD's new leadership after Loeb and his inner circle had been exposed as corrupt.
"How do you figure?" asked Gordon.
"Well," O'Hara replied, "He brought in Loeb when we couldn't, and he leaves the crooks he catches for us. He's an asset."
Dent flipped his coin, a two-headed silver dollar that he would fiddle with when preoccupied with other matters, and frowned.
"Are you suggesting we look the other way? The man's a vigilante. When people try to take justice into their own hands, it never ends well."
"You do have a point," Gordon said to Dent, "but we have to find him to arrest him. If he were that easy to find, the mobs would've done it by now."
"Then what do you suggest?" Dent asked.
"We'll need to watch him. If we find out who he is, we'll bring him in. If he crosses a line, we'll try to stop him."
Dent ran his coin through his fingers as the Commissioner spoke. He then looked up.
"Don't you think he already crossed the line when he broke the law?"
"That may be," said Gordon, "but we have bigger things to worry about than someone who's trying to help us."
Dent nodded slowly, and spoke.
"Alright. But I hope you know what you're doing."
Gordon hoped so too.