"WONDER WOMAN! LOOK OUT!" Batman roared as a bullet whizzed out of Deadshot's wrist-gun, heading straight for the base of the Amazon's spine. Batman's mind calculated at an impossible rate as his body sprang into action. The bullet wound damage her vertebrae, causing her to probably be disabled. That would prevent her from working in the field. That would damage her warrior's pride, causing her to spiral into depression. That depression would hit the entire League hard. He was less than 10 feet away and the bullet was fast approaching.
Wonder Woman hadn't heard him over the noise of the battle. She didn't know that she was in danger. 6 feet to go. He leapt through the air and felt the bullet tear through his Kevlar and enter his stomach. He grunted in pain as he hit the ground, rolling quickly and stumbling slowly to his feet.
He whipped out a batarang and sent it whizzing into the assassin's wrist, breaking both the gun and the wrist that it was attached to. Wonder Woman turned from her fight, having just finished fighting Cheetah and saw Batman hunched over, clutching his stomach with blood leaking through his fingers. She swept forward and caught him as he fell to the ground. "Watchtower, two for emergency transport. Prep the med bay!" Blue light enveloped them just after she had finished speaking.
The founding members of the League (minus Batman and the Martian Manhunter) all waited silently outside of the operating theater. They had been there for nearly two hours. Flash was pacing back and forth; Hawkgirl sat rolling her mace between her fingers with a worried expression on her face; Green Lantern sat upright with a stoic expression upon his own face; Superman sat with his head in his heads; and Wonder Woman? She was sat with an expression of grief and shame on her face. It hadn't taken her long to work out how Batman had been shot. It hadn't taken Deadshot long to admit to trying to shoot her.
Finally, J'onn walked out of the operating theater, dressed in surgical scrubs that were covered in blood. He approached with a relieved smile on his face that spread a sense of relief to the rest of them. J'onn wouldn't be smiling if Batman had died on the table. "He should be fine, now. The bullet missed anything major, though it did break one of his ribs. He should be fully recovered in around two to three weeks. He is awake if you would like to speak to him." With that the Martian departed to clean up after the surgery.
The founders filed in and saw the Dark Knight (still wearing the cowl) sat up on a bed and systematically removing the IV drips that were attached to his arms. He stopped when he noticed them walking in. "Yes?" He asked abruptly and went back to removing the IVs. "What are you doing?" Superman asked as he went to stop him. Batman shot him a glare that caused him to pause and said, "J'onn is pumping drugs into me despite my strict instructions not to. I'm removing them before they enter my bloodstream and decrease my performance. Now, can I help you with anything or did you just come here to stare?" Both the question and the tone caught the League off guard. Wonder Woman responded, "We came to see how you were. To make sure that you were okay." Batman looked at her for a moment before replying, "Why? I'm a part-timer. It was a non-critical wound that didn't even require a blood transplant. I was neither dying nor in danger of dying. So, I'll repeat my question, why?"
The League was taken aback. They knew that the Batman did not respond well to being vulnerable but to actually question why they were there? "We came because we are your friends. We came to be sure that you were fine and didn't require assistance, either for yourself or for Gotham." Superman said. Flash and Green Lantern winced in sync with each other. They both knew what the Caped Crusader's reaction to that statement would be. "Help with Gotham?" He repeated, slowly and menacingly, in a voice that clearly displayed why criminals were terrified of him. "You want to help with Gotham, Boy Scout? They would chew you up and spit you out. Your ideals and morality wouldn't last a week in Gotham. No, I do not want your 'help with Gotham'. Gotham is my territory and mine alone. Enter it without a damn good reason and you better be ready for what will follow." With that he rose from the bed and swept out, his cape flowing dramatically behind him.
It has been nearly a week since the League had last seen Batman. It wasn't really a surprise; they wouldn't sometimes see him for weeks at a time. No, the disturbing thing was the reports that were coming in from Gotham. Criminals were being found dead in public places, with all signs pointing to the Batman as the killer. Commissioner Gordon had been forced to issue an arrest warrant for the caped vigilante. The founders decided it was time that they found the Batman, the League had to deal with their own.
The League spent hours searching for the Batman but found nothing. At 3 a.m. they regrouped only to be shocked by the appearance of Batman crouched next to a gargoyle, staring out across the city. "You've come to take me in." It wasn't a question and there was no emotion in his voice. "We don't want to do this, Batman, but the League works with the U.S. Government and they have asked for help in bringing you in. Please, come quietly." Superman pleaded, already knowing what Batman would say in reply. "I'm sorry, Kal, but I can't. Believe what you want, but I am not the killer, which means that the real killer must be found and brought to justice. I can't do that from a prison cell. So no, Kal. I will not 'come quietly.'"
"I'm sorry, Batman." Superman said as he reached to grab his arm. Batman looked at him for the first time and said, "So am I." He then clicked a button on his belt buckle and dived off of the roof. Before the League could follow, electricity arced across the rooftop and incapacitated them, causing them to drop unconscious.
When they awoke, they were back on the Watchtower in their respective rooms; in the conference room was Batman's communicator and access card as well as a written copy of his official resignation, dated nearly a month before. He was trying to protect the League from the media onslaught that could destroy their standing in the public eye.
From a nearby rooftop a figure watched as the Dark Knight beamed back down from the Watchtower after incapacitating the entire League. He smiled beneath his mask. The Detective would find him soon enough, but there still time for a little fun. "Showtime." He whispered menacingly.
There was a glint of red as he dropped silently off of the side of the building. As he landed and rolled he clicked a button on a remote and the building he had been stood on began to collapse behind him. He then took off down an alley, knowing that the Dark Knight would soon pick up his trail. He had been hiding in the shadows long enough. It was time to make himself known.
Batman whipped around as he heard the explosion so close to him. He sprinted towards the collapsing building and dived, spreading his cape out causing him to glide like a giant bat.
He landed before the collapsed building and scanned the immediate area. He quickly caught sight of a heat signature nearby and turned catching of a flash of red. He began sprinting towards it just as the figure wearing the red began sprinting down the alleyway.
Batman watched as the figure leaped and ricocheted off of the walls of the alley until he was on one of the rooftops. He quickly pulled out a grapple and sped after him, casting a terrifying shadow with his cape. The figure was already halfway across the rooftop and when he reached the edge he jumped and span around, throwing a handful of shurikens as he did so.
Batman quickly dropped to the ground and rolled to avoid the whizzing projectiles that had been expertly thrown at him. He then jumped off of the rooftop after the figure.
He landed and rolled on another rooftop and immediately dropped into a defensive stance. The figure was stood facing him and, for the first time, Batman got a good look at him.
Tall, probably around 6 foot or maybe 6 foot 1. Athletic build. He was wearing a battered, brown leather jacket over Kevlar body armour along with a pair of black jeans. Holsters sat on his hips, each containing a revolver. Belts and bandoliers circled his torso, holding additional holsters and sheaths.
But that wasn't the most striking thing. No, the striking thing was his face. It was covered completely by a red, metal helmet. A hood. The Red Hood. Another one. But this one was different to all of the others. He had been trained, that much was obvious due to both his stance and the fact that he had just outrun Batman and managed to delay him as well. That showed both planning and extreme skill. This wasn't some average thief looking to scare the public. This was something new.
"Who are you?" He growled menacingly at the hooded figure. The man before him answered in a sarcastic and mocking tone that sounded vaguely familiar. "What? Does this not give it away, Bats?" He said this while tapping on the helmet. Batman answered, "A new Red Hood. A copycat." The man snarled and said, "I'm no copycat! I'm using the criminals' image against them. They see the Hood, they see a criminal so they don't expect me to stop them." Batman began to slowly walk forwards. "Stop them? You mean kill them. I've been seeing your handiwork all over the city. The police think its me." His hand slipped beneath his cape and remove a batarang from his belt. "Sorry about that, Bats, but I wasn't quite ready to accept responsibility for that. Still had some things to take care of. Anyway," here he paused and waved mockingly. "Be seeing you." He back flipped off of the edge of the building.
Batman rushed forward to pursue but found no evidence as to which direction the man had gone in. He had just disappeared. He growled in anger and began to head back towards the Cave, avoiding police patrols as he went.
