Author's Notes: Hadn't actually planned to post this particular fan-fic here, but as it's finished and I liked writing it, I decided "what the hell?" and have decided to post it here after all. Set in an alternate DCU. Expect differences from mainstream continuity. A lot of differences. That was the point. If you don't like that, you may wish to stop here. Otherwise, read on and enjoy.
Oh, and, expect numerous references to not just the comics but other DC continuities as well, such asArrowand the widely hated but in my opinion occasionally goodGothamTVshow. Enjoy!
Gotham City, 2013
Catwoman gasped in pain.
She could feel acutely each and every one of the wounds from the cuts she'd been dealt by Prometheus' sword and other weapons. Each cut was deep, all of them having managed to cut through her catsuit, and she was at risk of bleeding out if she didn't find help fast.
Catwoman instinctively shot a look behind her. There was indeed a trail of blood, with the blood steaming on the ground as the night air made it's cold and unwelcome presence known. This just made the cuts sting all the more. Catwoman paused, and slumped down as she took stock of both the full extent of her injuries and also where she was. From the street signs and some vaguely familiar buildings, Catwoman estimated that she had easily over thirty blocks to go before she got anywhere close to Bruce's home. And, considering her injuries, Catwoman wasn't confident she could ever make ten blocks, let alone thirty.
She had several small cuts on her arms, a long, ugly slash across her back, several puncture wounds from being stabbed in the back and in the side, and a laceration across her leg that more than anything else made walking with anything but a limp difficult, to say the least.
Running and fighting in high heels, I can handle. Catwoman thought with a grimace as she instinctively looked at the black leather high-heeled boots in question. ...but running with an injury like this one, that's something else.
She'd taken quite a few punches and kicks too, and had the bruises to show for them. She was pretty sure a few of her bones were fractured, and in particular, two of her ribs were cracked. As Catwoman took in all of these injuries, she began to feel light-headed, and then suddenly threw up, leaving a puddle of bile on the floor. The bile was also tinted red with the blood in her mouth, more of which ran down her lips and chin and made the former redder than usual. And it wasn't cosmetics this time.
Come on, Selina. You have to get up. Have to keep moving. You've come too far just to die in an alleyway now…
Forcing herself up, Catwoman nearly threw up again but this time forced the rank bile back down her throat, regretted doing so, and then spat out some more of the blood in her mouth. After this, Catwoman continued to hobble along under the fog-concealed moon, as she did thinking back to the events that led up to this moment…
Six Days Earlier
"Damn." Catwoman noted simply as she observed the headless corpse sitting in a chair that had several arrows sticking into it. Said corpse was an older man, probably around sixty-five or so, and judging by the condition of his home, he hadn't been a very wealthy or attentive sixty-five year old. Catwoman hadn't found the victim's head yet, and she was hoping she never would. She'd leave that to her long-time lover who was currently doing what he did best; being the World's Greatest Detective.
"Slash marks on the severed neck stump and on the head are consistent with a sword. Medium-length blade, single-edged. Lightweight to allow for swift strikes and ease of movement. Point was probably such that the wielder could work with it in addition to the edge."
"But it looks like they went with the edge this time."
"Yes, indeed." Batman said with a nod before kneeling before the headless corpse to examine it. "Arrows penetrated the chest, but none of them have hit a vital organ. Whoever shot him didn't want him dying right away."
"So they wanted him to suffer? Jesus…"
"Yes. This is the sort of killing that has a lifetime of hatred fueling it."
"Any idea of what caused that hatred?"
"Not yet." Batman admitted, standing up in full and showcasing his armored batsuit in all it's glory. The suit was all a mix of black, silver, and gray with a pinch of red, and featuring a long, black cape, armored gauntlets with scalloped blades, and a full-face covering helmet with opaque visor and pointy ears. The symbol of a bat was on the front of, proudly displayed on a chest that had some pronounced armor-plating, the kind of thing Catwoman eschewed in favor of a form-fitting black and red leather catsuit with black high-heeled boots and long, black leather gloves that covered most of her arms and ended in claws. She looked at Batman expecting him to say something more, and as always, he didn't disappoint her.
"I did find several things worth noting though."
"Such as?"
"The victim's name is Tom De La Croix."
"Sounds french."
"Yes. Last name means 'from the cross'. Family has been historically religious, conservative, and patriotic to a fault. Judging by the pictures on one of the walls and military insignias I found in one of his drawers, it's safe to assume that he served. All evidence points to Vietnam."
Catwoman didn't flinch upon hearing that, but privately the mention of Vietnam made her think of her father and his time there. He had served in Vietnam, and it was where he had met Selina's mother. These memories in turn gave way to more painful ones, ones that made parts of her skin quiver and crawl from where she remembered her father's alcohol-fueled blows, and her heart sag and ache any time she thought of her mother. That beautiful but sad woman in a country not her own and trapped in a nightmare marriage.
"So, our victim is a Vietnam War Veteran, and someone decided to stick three arrows into him before chopping off his head...do you think it might be because of something he did in Vietnam?"
"Probably, but I won't know for sure until I check La Croix's service records, and it will take Oracle time to hack into those. I'll let you know when I find something."
"Well, in the meantime, I'd like very much to get the hell out of here. Shocking as it may sound, but I really don't like standing next to a headless body in a chair."
And so, Batman and Catwoman left after the former carefully recorded everything he and his lover had noticed that was of relevance. As they left though, a masked man with a bow, quiver, and sword watched them leave, before silently vanishing himself.
Back in the present
"So...explain to me again how I let you drag me into this?" Nightwing asked as he looked out at the mess of unconscious thugs that were Edward Nashton and the entirety of his gang.
"We were chasing the same man." Batman noted. "If I wanted to split hairs, I could argue that it was you who got in my way."
"Yeah, let's notsplit hairs then." He looked out and took note in particular of a short, plump man who now had a black eye and a broken arm thanks to a woefully misguided attempt to shoot Nightwing while his back was turned.
"So, I know I got here because I beat information out of one of Nashton's informants. How did youget this far?"
Batman pointed to the unconscious plump man Nightwing had been looking at just before. "Followed him. I knew Mr. Cobblepot was taking bribes from Nashton, and using him and his gang's actions to further his own agenda."
"Wow. A corrupt politician. Never seen one of those before" Nightwing shook his head.
"He wasn't very good at covering his tracks." Batman explained. "Arrogantly assumed that everything he did would work, but in reality he was sloppy. Predictable. Following him was easy."
There was a pause before Nightwing asked Batman: "So, how has the investigation for the Veteran Murders been going?"
"I've managed to cobble together some amount of evidence, but so far, no actual name for our killer. But at the very least, I now have some insight into who the killer might be, and also what the motive almost certainly is."
"Good to know." Nightwing said. "Pretty sure we'll all sleep easier without that bastard on the streets. But, if you've got things from here, it's about time I got back down to my section of Gotham."
"Your section of Gotham?" Batman asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, my section. You're not the only guy in a fancy set of armor who protects this city, old-timer."
"Maybe, but I'm still not convinced that you can call yourself my equal."
"I never said I was." Nightwing replied simply before heading off in the direction of one of Gotham City's especially bad areas. Bad even by Gotham's fantastically low standards. Batman in particular understood that; it was the same area where Crime Alley was.
As Batman handcuffed Edward Nashton and made sure he didn't get away before the police showed up to take him away, he thought about Catwoman. She had gone off after that lead relating to the ongoing "Veteran Murders" as the press were calling them, and she had yet to come back, or give Batman any kind of message or sign. Granted, Catwoman didn't tell him everything in general, and never kept in constant communication with him. But even so, there was something about the long gap in-between his last seeing her and the present that was giving him unease.
Then again… Batman thought. ...perhaps I'm just letting my...feelings for Selina get the better of me. There's no great reason to be alarmed...yet.
Four days earlier
"Another murder of one of Gotham City's own war veterans, and this one coming so soon after the murder of Tom De La Croix just two days prior. This second victim, Charles Gibbon, was also a veteran of the war in Vietnam, and in fact served in the same division as Tom De La Croix. Is this mere coincidence, or are we seeing the beginning of a pattern? Either way, this anchorwoman's heart goes out to the families of both victims. This is Vicki Vale of Gotham News, and here's hoping that either the police or Batman find the person responsible for these killings."
"Bet the censors cut that last statement of hers short." Catwoman (or Selina Kyle as she was at the moment), said as she turned off the news so she could focus on talking to Batman, who at the moment was Bruce Wayne. Inside his "back-room" within his modest two-story dwelling, he had a billboard that currently had on it everything he had relating to the recent murders.
"I take it you don't think it's a coincidence, do you?" Selina asked. Bruce shook his head. "No. I don't believe in coincidences, Selina. You know that. And even if I did, I wouldn't believe in this one. Two Vietnam War veterans in Gotham, both from the exact same division, and each of them murdered within two days of one another. There's definitely a pattern here, and given that Gotham boasts a population over 10 million strong, there's probably still a few different Vietnam veterans our unknown assassin can target. Whoever this person is, they'll strike again."
"Has Oracle given you anything useful?"
Bruce pretended not to notice the slight edge in Selina's tone when she asked that question. He and Selina were thick as, well, thieves, but she was noticeably touchy where his interactions with other women were concerned. That a deranged, femme fatale terrorist had tried to seduce him once had likely contributed to this.
"Yes, she has. The outfit the two victims served in was a group called 'Easy Company'."
"I thought they were supposed to be from World War II…?"
"They were originally, but the company was maintained come the war in Vietnam. They just replaced the old soldiers with new ones. Although, based on what Oracle's told me, I'd use the term "soldier" very loosely with these people. See for yourself." Bruce tossed Selina a set of dossiers Oracle had (illegally) made copies of for Bruce and Selina's benefit. Selina read through the files one by one.
"Hmm...let's see...Ben Krullen, convicted of assault and battery in 1956, assault and battery again in 1960, and oh, murder and drug possession in 1962. Real charmer."
"Yes. Offered a choice between the chair and military service. As you can see, he chose the latter. That was also how Clifford Zmeck made it into Easy Company despite being a convicted murderer and rapist."
Selina suppressed a natural inclination to spit at that second part before flipping through some of the other dossiers. She took note of the ones for the recent murder victims, as well as the unit's then-commanding officer Slade Joseph Wilson. Then she saw one name in particular and dropped the dossiers right on the floor.
"What is it, Selina?"
Selina looked at Bruce without the usual confidence or sultriness in her gaze but instead sheer, total shock and surprise. "I saw my father's file in there, Bruce. My father was a part of Easy Company."