Chapter 1: Decent

Tired, old legs slowly limped their way down stairs into a cold, dank cave, barely lit anymore. The figure reached the bottom step and paused, catching his breath. His black suit was pressed and the tools of his trade were ready. He stood straight, forcing the weariness and pain out of his face and voice. It was time again to face his new enemy. Back straight, he walked across the cave, weapons at the ready.

"Coffee, sir?" asked Alfred Pennyworth, the butler and last friend of Bruce Wayne and Batman. Alfred looked down at his employer and friend, his tray held ready. Batman was hunched over a bank of monitors, eyes constantly shifting, attempting to catch and log everything. His fingers raced over the keyboard, creating logs and updating profiles on every citizen of Gotham City that appeared in his feeds. Batman mumbled to himself as he watched fifty screens at once, all of them constantly flipping through camera feeds. Alfred knew Batman hadn't slept in days, and had not changed out of the armor in that time. Alfred had watched him obsess over the feeds from fixed cameras and drones flying over the city to weight lifting to keep his edge to flying away to some crime that needed to be stopped.

Batman ignored Alfred's questions, still focused on feeds and not even glancing in Alfred's direction. He sighed and set down the tray of coffee on the corner of a table where an exact tray had been left the previous day. It was untouched, the coffee in the carafe cold. Alfred picked up the old tray and headed up the stairs. He glanced back once then shook his head. He couldn't stand what Batman and Bruce had become. It wasn't always like this. Now, he was too far gone. Alfred was glad this was going to be his last night at the Wayne manor. There was nothing left for him here anymore. The staff had been relieved of their duties since Bruce stayed in the Batcave almost constantly. The pantry was stocked, but only in the small everyday kitchen. Almost all of the rooms had sheets over the furniture since they were never used. It almost seemed that the house had become abandoned.

Alfred reached the Manor proper and set the tray of cold coffee down on the counter in the small kitchen. He poured it down the sink, washed the carafe, put the cups and tray away and finally walked to his bedroom. His bags were already packed, waiting. He picked them up and quietly walked to the front door. He left his key on the table next to the door, put on a hat, and left the manor, closing the door behind him, both to the house and to the past four decades of his life. A taxi waited for him outside the gates. He climbed in and told the driver where to go. Alfred could have left a note, but it would have gone unread anyway.

Batman's senses had noticed the figure coming down the stairs. His peripheral vision had indicated an older man with a silver tray holding coffee cups. His nose indicated the coffee was freshly brewed, an exotic Sumatra blend. His ears told him the figure had a limp coming down the stairs but tried to hide it as it reached the bottom. Batman's brain took all these clues and deduced that Alfred was bringing him a fresh pot of coffee, that it was not a threat and could be ignored. His brain cut out any other inputs from Alfred's direction to focus on the task at hand. A note was made by his brain to grab a cup in a few minutes, but it could wait.

Batman's almost unblinking eyes continued to scan the screens that showed him cameras all over Gotham City, both mounted on buildings and flying in the sky. In his ear, a police scanner hopped frequencies and chattered away. A computer hooked into the phone networks of Gotham City monitored the phone conversations in the city, with automatic key words programmed to highlight and single out specific conversations for clues to crimes. Another computer was dedicated to accessing all of Gotham City's numerous databases: flight and cruise logs, shipping manifests, records of sales, credit card numbers, call logs, bank accounts, police files, school records, government records, anything that might give a clue to someone performing a crime and how to stop it.

This was Batman's life now. Bruce Wayne had all but vanished in the public eye. There was too much work for Batman to allow any time for Bruce. The Board of Directors had taken over running Wayne Enterprises. Batman remained in the cave, only venturing into the Manor for food and very minimal sleep. There was too much to do for a regular eight hours. There was too much for relationships. He had to take this fight on alone. No one would understand, no one could help him. All that mattered was finding the next crime and stopping it.

When he wasn't monitoring all the information he could gather from Gotham, Batman was patrolling and stopping the crimes with no help. The Commissioner, Jonathan Cole, had become useless. When crime was on the rise, he refused to lobby to increase police powers, refused to enact measures that would give the police and Batman the right to suspect anyone and search anyone for any suspicion of crime, refused to ban all firearms and close off the city so none could come in, refused to take the steps necessary to keep the city safe. He had to be pushed aside and Batman took over the department. The choppers and drones that flew over the city constantly bore the emblem of a bat now, not the police shield. All of their transmissions flowed into the Batcave and were archived on his computer. All of the Police orders came from Batman, and it was he they reported to. The police were his, and he used them ruthlessly to keep crime in check.

The mayor was useless. All he cared about was getting re-elected. As long as crime was down, he didn't care what methods were used. He was weak. He couldn't stand up to Batman and the police he now controlled. The mayor sat in his office, wringing his hands but unable to do anything. He had failed the people, and Batman had to step in to save them. With Batman in charge of the security and safety of Gotham City, crime was at an all-time low. He had finally come close to fulfilling his childhood vow of avenging his parents' death at the hands of criminals.

Batman's ears picked up a call on the scanner. It was a bank robbery. It was the first one in over six months. He put his computer on standby while letting the network security protocols run in the background, preventing hackers from accessing his files and potentially planting a virus. Batman stood and pulled his mask over his face. He ran to his latest Batmobile. Tired of having so many vehicles for specific jobs, this current Batmobile was able to fly and float. It covered all areas he might need to access in Gotham. Batman jumped into the cockpit of one of the vehicles and sealed it, firing up the engines and deploying the wings so he could fly to the crime. The Batmobile exploded out of the cave entrance and zoomed to the city center.

Updates were continually fed to Batman through the scanner. It was a group of six men robbing East Gotham Bank. They had overpowered the guards. One of them was armed with a gun. How had he managed to get a gun into Gotham? Batman had destroyed and banned all firearms shortly after pushing aside the mayor. Police had the building surrounded and were waiting for further orders. Normally, they could handle something like this, but Batman wanted to take care of this personally. He radioed the captain in charge of the units responding and told them to hold, to keep the robbers in the bank. Batman checked the clock. He had two minutes before he would be on target. He made sure his armor was ready. One minute. He tightened his gloves and double checked his belt. Thirty seconds. His mind was focused, ready for the fight.

The Batmobile hovered over the bank building and Batman ejected onto the roof. He ripped the door off of the roof access and ran in. The top floors were clear and Batman ran down to the main floor to the robbers and the hostages. At the door to the main lobby, he used his x-ray scanner to look into the room. The six robbers were arranged around the perimeter. The robber with the gun stood on the far side with his weapon aimed at the hostages. The hostages were sitting down in the center of the room, twelve of them, clerks, cashiers and patrons. They were innocents in this. He would have to be careful not to hurt them.

Batman burst through the door, immediately knocking down one of the robbers. He leapt to the next robber, kicking him in the ribs. He heard ribs crack and the robber went down, clutching his side. One of the robbers ran at Batman and was met in the face with a fist, his nose and cheek bones smashing. The robber with the gun fired two rounds, both of them were deflected off of Batman's armor. Batman ran to the armed robber and grabbed his arm with the gun, twisting it violently. The arm separated out of it's socket and the robber dropped the gun. Batman kicked the robber in the knees, breaking his knee caps and leaving him in a pile on the floor. With only two left, Batman grabbed both by the heads and smashed them together. Bones cracked under the pressure and Batman threw them both to the ground. They impacted and cracked their spines.

Batman looked over the scene. The hostages were still in the center of the room, cowing under the sudden and violent attack. It had only been thirty seconds. Batman allowed himself a smirk at the ease and quickness of taking them down. He grabbed the gun off the floor. He had to take it back to the Batcave and attempt to track it. It was a small pocket pistol, not even powerful enough to cause any real damage. Batman looked over the robbers. They looked like they were taking steroids. They were more muscular than what he usually dealt with. So, criminals were trying a new tactic. Get bigger and stronger to overpower him. Didn't they know that never worked?

Batman grabbed the most conscious robber and slammed him against the wall. "Who are you working for?" Batman had to be intimidating to get scum like this to talk.

"No one." The robber was scared and blabbering. "We just needed the money. We had to knock over the bank to get some."

"Where did you get the gun?"

"We just found it! Jesus, let me go!"

"There are no guns in Gotham. Where did you find it?"

"By the docks!"

Batman hit him once more to knock him out. He took a syringe and drew blood from the robber to analyze and attempt to trace the steroids, to see if he could find out where they had gotten the drugs from. Batman had clamped down hard on illegal drug use and was determined to make sure none of it would be in his Gotham City. Finally, he took pictures of all of the robbers to add to his database, in case they decided to repeat their offences.

Batman strode out the front door to the waiting police officers. "It's done," he said simply, then fired his grappling-hook gun at the roof and climbed into the waiting Batmobile. It sped over Gotham City. Since he was out in town, Batman decided to patrol, to check on the city. The searches were still running in the Batcave and he could check them when he got back. He reflected on the fight tonight, cataloging everything and reviewing the events to make sure next time was faster and better. He should have taken out the criminal with the gun first. He could have prevented any shots from being fired and it might have been over that much faster. He allowed a little bit of satisfaction at the sound of bones breaking as he took down the criminals. The crunching sound let him know they were not going to be an issue for a while. It was what all of his training was about. To stop the criminals and make sure they were not going to commit their crimes again.

The ambulance pulled up to the bank and the police lifted the crime-scene tape to let them through. The back opened up and EMT Sarah Thompson jumped out. The police had already cleared the area and Sarah made her way into the bank.

One glance and Sarah knew it was another Batman crime scene. She sighed as the stretchers were rolled in. She keyed her radio. "We're going to need five more units," she ordered into the mike. She began to triage the people scattered around the room. None of the hostages were hurt and they were quickly taken outside so the medical personnel could work. Sarah made her way around the room. She could already tell several of the robbers were going to need severe medical attention. Just looking at the injuries, she saw several broken ribs with a possibly punctured lung, two cracked skulls with hemorrhaging, a broken jaw and nose, a broken arm and dislocated shoulder, and shattered knee caps, broken femurs and broken shins. She began working on the man with the broken ribs and possibly punctured lung. He was coughing up frothy blood, and she knew she had to work fast. Sarah looked over the other patients. The man with the broken arm and dislocated shoulder would probably never be able to use it again. The two with the broken skulls would more than likely have permanent brain damage, but there was nothing she could do here. The man with the broken legs would probably never walk again. Sarah sighed again and continued to work on the man's ribs.

Why did they have to wind up like this? With Batman tightening his hold on the city, it was harder and harder for the less fortunate to be able to rise above their situation and try to make a living for themselves. That's why they turned to crime. But with Batman being so harsh on them, they wound up rotting in hospitals and then jail, given no opportunity to better themselves. Sarah shook her head, wondering how much better the city would be without Batman.

Five Years Ago

Batman glided over the city, watching below for any signs of crime. A headset in his cowl was tuned to the police frequencies and would squawk every now and then. He listened for anything that might be a crime. Since the death of the Joker and the destruction of Wayne Manor, crime was at an all-time low in the city. He couldn't rest, though. It was his vow to help the city, to keep it safe. He looked down at the rooftops gliding beneath him and saw a black shadow running along beneath him. Catwoman ran, jumped and used her whip to move along the rooftops and keep up with him. He hadn't expected her to be his new partner, but he never expected any of the things that had happed to occur.

For the past six months, since the death of the Joker, Catwoman and Batman had been patrolling the city at night, making sure crime was kept in check. They were making the city safer, although, it seemed that Catwoman had ulterior motives. She seemed to put up with the patrols, but only to be with Batman. He knew she was in love with him. With Batman, not Bruce Wayne; it nagged at the back of Bruce Wayne's mind, having to separate his two lives, but Catwoman (or should he say Selena Kyle) seemed satisfied with their arrangement. During the day, they went out shopping, had lunch, and enjoyed each other like any other couple. At night, they both donned their masks and patrolled the city. Even though she had a criminal background, Catwoman helped to identify crimes, she was handy in a fight, and she let Batman lead them. It had been a long time since he had had a partner, and he was enjoying it. The Batcave was still being rebuilt along with the rest of Wayne Manor, but they were able to make due at the penthouse suite of Wayne Towers. He was even able to get some ideas about a new, proper Batmobile, computer and gadget upgrades, better tools since he would no longer have to sacrifice his crime fighting for his relationship.

Below him, Catwoman stopped, her lithe body perched on a roof, looking down, the moon light gleaming on the rounded curve of her buttocks in her tight leather. Batman couldn't help but admire it. He dived down and joined her on the perch. Below them, two gangs faced off, guns and knives at the ready. Batman looked down and was ready to jump between them when Catwoman put a hand on his arm. "Why bother? Why not let them fight it out?"

"They could kill each other."

"So? And what would stopping them help? They'll just find another time and place to do it, and you might not be there. Just let them fight it out now, then clean it up later."

Batman thought. She did have a point. Gang violence was never solved by more violence. They wouldn't stop as long as they had to rely on the gangs for support instead of finding jobs and building lives for themselves. But perhaps he could make a difference tonight. A determined look came over Batman's face and he jumped down between the two gangs. Catwoman sighed and joined him reluctantly.

"Drop your weapons!" Batman shouted, but it was too late. Catwoman was already attacking one group, flipping between attacks, disarming them before they could fire. Batman gritted his teeth and launched into the other gang, quickly disarming them and taking them down. Within seconds, all of them were on the ground, most of them unconscious. Batman strode up to the leader of one of the gangs, still conscious, and put foot on his shoulder to keep him down.

"What was all of this about?"

"This is none of your business. We was just protecting our territory, keeping intruders out!"

"Any type of crime is my business."

"Fuck you!"

Catwoman swaggered up, her hips swaying. Batman looked behind her at the other gang. They were all unconscious, most of them bleeding from her claws. He shook his head. They would have to talk about this later. She enjoyed hurting them too much. He turned his attention back to the leader beneath his foot.

"All of these guns are going to be destroyed."

"Fuck, how will we defend ourselves?"

"Try negotiating."

"You don't really expect that to work, do you?" asked Catwoman from behind. "They'll just find more. Just take him out now, one less thug in the city. Or let them kill themselves. It'll happen eventually."

"But then it will never end," Batman replied.

"As long as they are killing each other, not my problem." She slinked over to one of the guns and picked it up, admiring it in the moonlight.

"Go home, and don't let me catch you out here again," Batman addressed the thug and then proceeded to pick up all of the guns in the ally to destroy them. Catwoman ran behind him, lept, and landed on top of the thug and smashed his head into the concrete, knocking him out. Batman gave her a long stare.

"What? He was going for a gun, I saw it."

Batman shook his head and finished gathering all of the firearms. He put them in a locked bag and prepared to leave. He would drop the key off at police headquarters later. Someone must have heard something because police sirens started to grow louder in the distance. Batman looked at Catwoman and offered her his hand. She took it and intertwined her body with his. He fired his grappling hook and flew to the rooftops with Catwoman hanging on. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she leaned her head in close to his cheek.

"All this action has gotten me excited. How about we head home and celebrate. Nothing else will be going on tonight." To emphasize her point, she lightly ground her hips against him. It was hard to resist when she attacked him with all of her charms. But she was right. The nights had been getting quieter (as far as crime went) since the death of the Joker, and they were hard pressed to find one crime a night to stop.

Batman winged his way over to Wayne Towers and landed on their balcony. It was too high up to be seen from the ground, and shrouded in shadows so no one could see them enter or leave. Catwoman quickly pulled him to the bedroom, her hands pulling off his armor and his unzipping her leather. She stood in the moonlight of the bedroom in just a black thong and her mask. He had only his cowl on and he reached up to remove it when she put her hands on his arms, holding them there.

"No, this time, leave it on!" she whispered in a voice low with desire. He grinned and picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, her lips devouring his. In two large strides he carried her over to the bed and the both fell onto it, lips locked, hands exploring. Beneath him, she arched her back, grinding her hips into his, her breasts brushing against his chest. He groaned and pulled her close. In the back of his mind, a small voice tried to remind him that there was something important to talk with her about, but it was ignored as they shared the passion between them.

Today

Batman sat at his bank of computers, reading over test results, compiling information, and catching up on what he had missed while he took care of the robbery. He read over police reports of what had happened in Gotham. One monitor was fast-forwarding camera feeds, going over events, making sure nothing was missed.

He glanced over to a computer, reading a printout on the analysis of the gun from the robbery. The serial number had been filed down to nothing. Rust was forming in the barrel, preventing analysis of the rifling. The list was too long to try to narrow it down. He needed to work out first.

He quickly reviewed the feed of the cameras from inside the bank during the fight. He took in where everyone was standing and sitting, reviewed how he took everyone down and looked for any flaw in his technique. He used the gym to re-create the scene with dummies and practiced. He repeated and repeated the take down, attempting to make it as efficient as possible. He eliminated any flaw he saw in his technique. He went back and reviewed tapes of his practice and compared them to the footage from the robbery. He saw the improvement and ran through the scene one more time before lifting weights. He lifted until his muscles protested, then pushed them, striving for optimal performance. Sweat poured down his body in the cool cave. He needed a shower and to get back to the analysis of the gun. He climbed the stairs into the manor proper and found all of the lights off. That was odd. Usually, Alfred left at least one light on for him when he was in the cave. He went upstairs into his bedroom. It had been a few days since he had been there: his bed was made and all of his clothes were put away. It was scrupulously neat.

He quickly showered and stepped back into his bedroom. Where were his clothes? Alfred usually had a clean set laid out for him. He crossed to the dresser and pulled out pants and a shirt. He didn't need anything fancy, but Alfred usually had something coordinated for him. Bruce quickly dressed and made his way back to the cave, paying more attention to the house as he passed through it. Sheets were on most of the furniture, and the house looked abandoned. When did that happen? Had he been spending so much time in the cave? It didn't matter. There was work to be done. Pushing the manor out of his thoughts, Bruce reached the secret entrance to his cave. A push of a hidden button moved a two-ton steel door to allow access. Upon passing the threshold, a slight shift in the persona of the man occurred, and Batman stepped into the cave and back to the bank of monitors. He had a lot of catching up to do. He went back to video feeds and started reviewing them, 10 at a time, in high speed. He checked lists and manifests for key words and names, people he had identified as high risk. It didn't matter the time, the work was nearly continuous. With the feed of the police scanner coming into his head phones, Batman hunched over the keyboards, searching, scanning, trying to ferret out any crime and respond before it was too late.

Selena Kyle sat on the couch in her apartment, legs tucked underneath her. She chewed on a nail while watching the news. Again, Batman and Gotham City was the top story. Footage of bank robbers, bloodied and broken, being wheeled out on stretchers beneath flashing red and blue lights moved across the screen. Footage from earlier came across and Batman, dark and intimidating, emerged from the broken window front. He glanced at the crowd yelling at him and quieted them with a glare. He said something to the police officer, then launched into the air.

A light came on in the hallway. Bathed in it was Selena's lover, Brooke. Selena looked over at her, taking in her beauty, then looked down at the suitcase on the floor next to her. Selena knew what was coming.

"I can't take it anymore," Brooke said. "You were gone, just gone, for three years. No calls, no word, nothing. Then you just show up and expect everything to go back to normal." Brooke crossed the room to Selena and sat next to her, putting her hand on Selena's thigh. "For two years, I never asked. I didn't ask what you were doing nor with whom." She glanced at the TV. "I didn't really have to. But for two years, I've been waiting for you to put your past behind you, but I can't wait anymore. I'm leaving." She looked into Selena's eyes, tears welling. "Don't you have anything to say? Any argument? Something, anything?" Selena turned her head. What could she say? Brooke stood. "Fine. I don't care about anything else in here." She fought back tears, her heart breaking. "Goodbye, Selena."

Brooke grabbed her suitcase and walked out the door, closing it behind her without looking back. Selena couldn't hold back the tears anymore and she fell over on the couch, tears flowing and sobs racking her body. She looked up at the TV, a frozen picture of Batman on the screen. Oh God, Selena thought, what the hell have I done?