Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine! I also do not own any rights or gain monetary subsidies to Batman. That belongs to Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and DC Comics.

Author's Note: Hello all! Here is the official first chapter. I have changed the title, hoping I would like this one better. There will be a Joker character, but it will follow (and hopefully give justice to) Heath Ledger's interpretation of the sadistic killer. After all, he inspired this fan fiction story. Also, there will be quotes from The Dark Knight movie out of respect for the great Ledger who died before his time. Thanks so much to LonesomeGurlAngelofDeath for the corrections!!

"Sometimes, truth isn't good enough, sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded." Batman

Chapter One-Life Lost; Guardian Gained

Twenty three year old Christine Daae, an assistant to the well known and well liked District Attorney, Philippe de Chagny, stepped out of her car and rushed to the court. She hated being late!

The woman had graduated a short time ago the top of her class from Gorham University, with honors and a dual degree in criminal justice and law. Recently receiving a promotion from the police department, she was able to acquire the assistant DA position three months prior, making her the youngest person to obtain that title.

Growing up in a home with two loving parents, Christine could have been anything she aspired to be, but it all changed when her father was killed by loan sharks from the Denali clan, a known mob business operating under the guise of a loan agency in the lower East side of Gorham. Since that moment and her mother's subsequent death, the young girl vowed to see justice was done for her father no matter how long it took. In secondary school, she was able to skip from sixth grade to ninth grade because of her vast intelligence. She was witty, charming, beautiful, and intelligent; those qualities all aided her in getting such a prestigious job.

She had been raised by her aunt, Shirley Lancaster, since that time until she struck out on her own, working at three jobs while attending Gorham University to obtain her master's degree. A woman of curly long blonde hair and large doe eyes of the bluest color, she was gorgeous with full lips and pale complexion but with very feminine features (high cheekbones, slender eyebrows, long brown lashes).

Yet she had no time for romance and had very few friendships; her devotion to receiving justice for her late father drove her to avoid such relationships like the plague. Only because of her Aunt's distant cousin, Aldred Lancaster, was she able to have one solid friendship that lasted over the course of nearly a decade. Erik Desslar was both her childhood companion and closest confidante within the city, helping her get through the most difficult stages of her life.

She had recently heard about the accident that nearly claimed his life in the papers and had immediately gone to see him. However when she entered his room, she instantly sensed something about his aura had changed. He was different. He was colder, more aloof, and at first, this did not alarm her as much as it did now.

Refusing to let her see him in such a miserable and painful state, he had Aldred convinced her to leave the hospital and she did not see him since that time. This rejection could not have come at a worse time, for she needed his comfort and support as she and her partner, Philippe de Chagny, began the trial for Leon Denali who had killed her father ten years ago. Leon was also the son of Reggie Denali, the head of the Denali clan.

Thus far her friend, Erik, had yet to step foot outside his mansion and instead took to a life of a recluse. She had not been able to get past the gates of the house, having tried and failed, with the apologies of Aldred who simply stated that Master Desslar just needed more time to heal both physically and mentally.

So she left her friend alone, her heart breaking for his pain and silent suffering, but she had other priorities to handle and it started with today's trial. Racing up the court's steps, she rushed to Room #9 on the first floor as the bailiffs held back the throng of photographers and news casters who permeated the halls like mice going after a piece of cheese.

She made it just in time! Passing the crowd of people in the bleachers, she spotted the familiar face of her friend, Erik Desslar. Standing up, he looked at her cautiously as she saw the severe burn scars that lacerated his face but she paid no heed. She was just glad to see him. Rushing to him, they embraced as she whispered in his ear, "I thought you would not come."

Ignoring the people staring at the well dressed billionaire the two friends smiled at each other, glad to see each other even under such distressing circumstances. Holding her close again, he whispered back, "I would not miss it for the world, Christine."

Nodding, she went to take her seat next to Philippe who was looking over the prosecution's case as the defense attorney waited for Leon Denali to be brought in for court. Erik Desslar took his seat and tried to hide his face from the curious but rude onlookers; he could not have been more grateful for the distraction of the judge entering the courtroom as one of the bailiffs brought Leon in handcuffs to his seat next to the defense attorney.

The trial had begun.

"Your Honor, I would like to call a witness to the stand for questioning. He has been sequestered in the back room as mandated by the court for he had been subpoenaed but got into an altercation with one of the bailiffs upon arriving."

Nodding, the judge allowed Philippe's request for the witness to take the stand. The courtroom waited in great anticipation as the court officer went to retrieve the volatile tempered man from the rear room.

Philippe de Chagny was a very brilliant man, succeeding in every venture he tried. He was a fight foot nine bachelor with black hair and brown eyes with a chiseled tan face any woman would swoon over. His family was of old wealth, but they had expanded their money to legitimate and modern day endeavors. He was the first born son to Fred and Trina de Chagny, and quickly took over the family affairs when his father died from a sudden bout of pneumonia thirteen years later.

His younger brother Raoul had been born not long after Fred had succumbed to illness and Philippe instantly became the surrogate father to him, guiding his younger sibling in the ways of the business and honesty.

Raoul de Chagny was of fairer complexion than his brother with sandy brown hair and blue-green eyes. Growing up in Gorham City and surviving was quite a feat few of the rich ever endured unscathed, but Philippe ensured his little brother never was left vulnerable to attack from the crime ridden streets.

He went to the same law school in Gorham as Christine but had long since graduated. At thirty-eight, he was the youngest DA in the county with the highest conviction rate in the state. He cleaned up the streets of the city as easily as the nuclear accident that had wiped out the forests so many years ago.

His sibling had gone off to the Navy in order to see the world and get away from Gorham, something Philippe could understand perfectly. Yet, Gorham was his passion and the DA would go to his grave to ensure that the city gain the rightful respect it deserved. Too long had it succumbed to the stigma of being cursed and controlled by thugs! He intended to change that utterly and what better way to start that by slamming one of the lead drug dealers behind bars for murder!

The door opened and the scruffy but gangly man entered the courtroom as the spectators whispered about his appearance and what he was hiding. Remaining silent but observing, Desslar keenly watched Christine's reaction to being in the same room as the man who killed her father so many years ago. She would glance over at him but then focus ahead, obviously trying to remain professional. This brought a small smiled to his scarred face before he listened intently of the line of questioning from the man who just swore in and the DA.

"So, Mr. Ferdinand Gallagher, is it?"

The nearly toothless man spat out, "Yea, that's me. What's it to ya?"

Scratching his head in nonchalance, Philippe slowly paced from the witness stand to stand in front of the jurors, leaning against the railing as he asked, "You were the one that sold the gun to the defendant, right?"

"Objection, Your Honor, the prosecution is leading!"

The elderly judge nodded his head to the defendant and spoke to the district attorney in a monotone voice, "Objection sustained. Please rephrase the question, Counselor."

Smiling a brilliantly white grin, Philippe responded, "Most certainly, your Honor. All right, Mr. Gallagher, did Mr. Leon Denali enter your store the night of January 23rd?"

The gruffly bearded man leaned back in the chair, "He did."

"Why did he come into your store? What did he buy?"

There the toothless grin revealed itself as Philippe walked closer to the man as the courtroom filled with curious and anxiously listening onlookers held their breaths waiting to see what the homeless looking man said.

Christine casted backwards glances at Erik who stood erect and stoic-faced, but mustered an encouraging nod her direction. Turning back to face the district attorney who asked the same questions when the man did not answer abruptly.

Suddenly, the man lunged at the DA with a Corvo as the slow acting bailiffs rushed to stop the witness who was obviously trying to kill the district attorney. Screams were pervasive in the room as Christine looked on horrified while Erik was tense behind his hooded eyes at the sight of the man's bold attempt to take the life of another.

Yet Philippe grabbed the man's arm and smashed the back of the elbow at the Golgi tendon on the wooden framework of the stand, immediately breaking the man's arm. Howling the man dropped the weapon on the floor and clutched his aching arm, whimpering in immense pain.

Casually picking up the weapon, the DA merely looked at the man and said, "A Corvo, huh, Mr. Gallagher. You probably would have been better off with a Smith & Wesson Model 10."

The courtroom erupted in applause as Philippe offered a small smile and wave to the citizens of Gorham City before turning back and exclaiming to the court officers and judge, "Don't take the man away yet! While we wait for the medics, I wish to ask him more questions. I am not through with Mr. Gallagher yet."

--The Desslar Residence--

"How did the trial go, Sir?"

"The man got life in prison without the possibility of parole. Once de Chagny broke the man's elbow, things went downhill fast for the defense. The jury took less than an hour to deliberate and come back with a verdict."

"I take it that Ms. Christine is happy with the outcome?"

At the sight of his butler's smiling features, Erik inwardly laughed and rolled his eyes at his mentor, "Aldred, you are getting that familiar look in your eye!"

The British butler stopped with the tray of tea on the silver platter as Erik headed towards the living area and with brows furrowed, "What look is that, Sir?"

Popping his head out from the study, Erik responded before returning to the room, "The one that always gets you in trouble and makes me uncomfortable."

Nodding his head, the butler retorted nonchalantly, "Ah, that one, Sir. I shall try to refrain myself from having any facial expressions if they displease you so much."

His adopted son's voice echoed in the hallway Lancaster was in, "Very funny, Aldred. Did you get the information I requested earlier?"

"Yes, indeed, sir. The papers are on lying on your desk in the study."

"Found them. Thanks."

Shaking his head, the butler headed to the kitchen to make sure the chef had prepared the food for dinner. After all, Erik was going to have dinner with the young Christine Daae. He just had no clue Aldred set the dinner date up.

--The Study--

Erik set aside his humorous banter with his butler in order to look over the papers that his assistant had brought earlier that day. Spreading them out over his large oak desk, the billionaire leaned over them, scanning for anything that caught his eye. There! He found it.

Picking up the sheet of paper, he thoroughly read the article about the elusive Pendekar Nadir Alomar Khan from the Indonesian province who was the master of Pencak Silat. Erik knew he needed to be trained to hone his skills in order to fight the criminals of Gorham City, and because of his parents' violent death—firearms would never be an option. He and his assistant, Madame Giry, both searched various martial arts and other combat fighting techniques in order to find one compatible to his needs, and subsequently found it.

While researching hybrid martial arts on the Internet, the young billionaire was skimming through a website when he saw the mention of Pencak Silat, the collective term for the hundreds of schools with various styles that dotted the thirteen thousand islands in Indonesia. Once he read about the type of skills and combative techniques that the various martial arts taught, he then searched more inclusively in the Indonesian land to locate a school that grouped these skills into one learning institution. After hours of searching the web pages, he finally located an assembly called Ikatan Pencak Silat Indonesia that seemed to offer more help.

Yet, Desslar desired only the best master or trainer so that he could learn all of the expertise and methods he would need to fight off the criminal waves that fluctuated in this city. Pendekar (name given to the top Pencak Silat teachers) Nadir Alomar Khan was nearly impossible to locate given his identity was highly guarded by the government. Erik had learned from several of his FBI friends that this master of martial arts had been used in covert operations and was wanted in connection with several deaths from Malaysia and Papua during the Free Aceh Movement.

The Master had been living as a recluse in a temple on Gunung Batukau, the second largest mountain in Bali, Indonesia. The mountain was not a favorite among climbers due to the thick forestry that covers the landscape, perfect for someone to withdraw to avoid detection, which was something that Erik needed should he perfect his skill.

He had to meet with this Pendekar immediately to begin work. He surmised it would take a year to perfect the martial arts and combat fighting techniques until he would be able to return to Gorham, ready to make the streets safe once again. While he would be away, Annette Giry, a scientist dying of cancer promised Erik that she would perfect his suit so that his identity would be concealed as well as develop gadgets to aid in battle should he need to protect himself.

Aldred promised Erik that he would take care of the estates and ensure his boss's wealth was safely intact during the long trip. Juan Fernandez, one of the top board members, assured Erik that he would take care of the corporation's accounts and stocks while the boss left for an extended 'vacation.'

The morning came that the billionaire was to take his flight to Indonesia and he had packed his belongings in the car beforehand. After saying his farewells to Aldred and Annette, Erik turned on his heel in the foyer and opened the front door to the beautiful face of Christine, whose fist still poised to knock.

"Christine? What are you doing here?"

Shock ran through her blue eyes before she quickly dropped her hand to her side and managed a white smile of embarrassment, "Oh, I wanted to stop by and…Are you going somewhere?"

Running a hand through his hair, the burned man's grotesquely features knitted together as he explained, "Ah, well, I am taking a vacation of sorts…"

"Oh? Where are you going?"

Closing his eyes, the burned man slightly turned to face Aldred, who only nodded in acknowledgement of his boss's silent plea. Stepping forward the old butler intervened and answered the young woman's question.

"Master Desslar is going to travel throughout Europe's wilderness to get away from Gorham City. He needs a break from the corporation and his other businesses."

Beautiful blue eyes, the color of the sea, turned towards her tense friend who stood with his eyes downcast. She reached out and embraced him. Returning the embrace, Erik was intoxicated by her sweet smell of lavender and vanilla. He was going to miss his few friends, but especially Christine.

When she pulled back, she asked, "How long do you plan on being gone?"

"A year maximum."

"A year?! Erik, what…Why so long?!"

His eyes darkened as Christine recognized the all too familiar gloom that occasionally engulfed him, that darkness from grieving for his parents' violent death. Hugging him again, she whispered in his ear, "If you need a year, then I will support you. Just promise you will come back. Gorham needs you. I need you."

Before he could reply, she kissed his marred cheek and walked down the massive marble steps to her blue sedan. With one wave, she drove down the driveway as Erik watched until he could no longer see those two red taillights that faded in the direction towards downtown Gorham City.

"Are you ready, Sir?"

Snapping out of his reverie, the billionaire nodded and followed his butler and companion to the limo that would take him to his private jet on the outskirts of the city. While Lancaster drove to Desslar's personal airport, the disfigured man sat, observing the passing scenery with disinterest because his thoughts were at the place where he watched his parents die. How helpless he had been, but this would change. He would change.

Tears burned his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. There is no way he would allow himself to let the grief out. No, he needed to hold on to it. He needed to remember what it felt like to have his mother's cold dead eyes settle on him. He needed to feel the coldness of that November night and how it paled in comparison to the frigidity to his heart as he ran away from his parents' corpses.

He needed that pain. He needed it to help him fight back. Sitting back in the leather seat, he closed his eyes and calmed down by thinking about the good memories he did have with Aldred and Christine.

The limo pulled into the airport; close but far enough from the private jet, as the attendants came out to greet their boss. Opening the door, Aldred watched the young Desslar step out into the cold air. Immediately the attendants went about their business to ensure the plane's safety wile Lancaster and Erik said goodbye.

"This is the first time we have been apart more than a few days in nearly two decades, Master Erik."

Smiling genuinely, the now reclusive billionaire responded, "I know, Aldred, but it is for good reason. You must take care of the things I assigned you."

Nodding his balding head, the butler smiled. The two shared a handshake and a brief hug before Erik stepped on the jet that would ultimately take him to the man named Nadir. It would not be long now…

-- Gunung Batukau in Bali, Indonesia--

Desslar's lungs burned as he tried to climb the mountain, and as physically active as he was, this still proved quite a feat. Yet, his resolve made him forge on. The trees were green and bugs hovered over his sweating forehead as the muggy day's humidity rose. However, he sensed relief because the smell of rain permeated through the forest. He had been to the Amazon rainforest on many occasions, but this tropical island seemed to surpass the jungles he had grown accustomed to.

After nearly forty-five more minutes of trudging through the forest's overgrowth, he caught a glimpse of a massive temple. Golden plates with holy verses from the Vedas, something Erik had been taught as a boy when he desired to learn about other cultures and religions, hung above the massive oak doors. Although his Hindu speaking skills were rusty and limited, he was able to decipher what the scripture said, "God loves us not for what we are but what He can make of us."

Hiking up the hundreds of steps that led to the front of the temple, he began to have second thoughts. Could he do this? Could he forfeit a normal life in order to bring justice to a crime-ridden city? Then his mind flashed mental snapshots of Christine's smiling face, Aldred's wizened one, Philippe as he bravely squared off to the kingpin's kid, and then his parent's happy faces before the murder. There was no other choice; he had to do this for them. Otherwise he would never have a life. He would forever be haunted by tragedies.

Soon he faced the door and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he pushed open the door. Chants echoed the room as monks worshipped by singing songs and chanting to their god. Out of respect, he removed his boots and straightened his sweaty and dirty white shirt. Suddenly, the men stopped and turned to face the stranger that had interrupted their worship.

Bowing out of respect to the elders, he straightened when one of the higher ranking priests spoke in broken English, "Who are you?"

Once more bowing, he replied in their native tongue, "My name is Erik Desslar. I am here to see Pendekar Nadir Khan."

The lesser priests' eyes widened in shock at the man's request while the higher priest's face did not change expressions; he nodded and led Erik to the back of the temple. Stopping in a grand hallway, the priest turned to the burned man and spoke.

"He has been expecting you for quite some time, orang terbakar."

Erik bristled at the name the priest used to call him; he swallowed his pride and responded respectfully, "saya tidak mengerti?" ( Excuse me, I do not understand.)

The priest only smiled and pointed down the hall to a red door hidden amongst the shadows of the tall structures overhanging the ceiling. Nodding, Erik headed towards the door and knocked. An Indonesian accented voice called out, although muffled by the door, "Silahkan masuk." (Come in.).

When he opened the door, he found no one was in the small study filled with bookcases of volumes of books like encyclopedias, the Vedas, Hindu hymnals. There was an altar and a chair with a small desk in the corner of the room. Candlelight was the only light of the room but the hundreds of lit candles was more than enough illumination. As he observed the new surroundings, the billionaire failed to notice the shadow behind him before suddenly he was thrown to the ground.

A man held his arm against Erik's throat and stared directly in to the burned man's eyes with indifference and smug satisfaction. Before the Indonesian man stood up, he whispered in a deep but monotone voice, "Never turn your back to your enemy. Never give them the chance to hurt you."

Still attempting to recuperate from the attack, Desslar stood up as well and took a long look at his attacker. The man was dressed in Indian Dhoti Kurta attire, with a red embroidered silk kurta and cotton white dhoti underneath, typical for the upperclass or highly esteemed in the nation of India.

He was brown, indicating his homeland was in Asia, probably India as displayed by his attire. A red dot was in the middle of his forehead which Erik surmised meant he was also a monk in the temple.

His sandals were hand-woven and stitched together from natural materials. He was also tall, at least 6 foot 2 inches. He was also high up in age; Erik surmised the age to be around in late fifties, early sixties due to his discolored skin and balding head. Although he was tall, he was rather lithe and less muscular in frame; but obviously the man was highly skilled in the martial art form of pencak silat.

"You speak English?"

The dark-skinned man smiled, "Yes. I was taught by the Indian government in order to do clandestine work. I assume you are here for my services as indicated by your men. Am I to be assured that this entire situation will be concealed?"

"You have my word that the U.S. will not be informed of your location as well as the other agencies searching for you."

The former agent from India moved to the other side of the room next to the altar and sat down, crossing his legs in typical monk fashion. Motioning with his hands, he invited Erik who came over and reciprocated the man's actions.

"I surmised that you were a man on a mission, Desslar. No other man, or agency, has so skillfully hunted me down and actually found me as you have done. You must be quite desperate for assistance to come after such a dangerous man."

"I need your help. I want to be trained in all the combative fighting skills from a Master, and you by far, are the most supreme of Pendekars."

Staring at the billionaire, the Pendekar's eyes seemed to bore into Erik's very soul, which utterly unnerved the normally reclusive man. Frowning, the esteemed monk sighed heavily before telling the man what was on his own mind, his voice carrying a regal and knowledgeable quality that only came with age and extreme understanding.

"Mister Desslar, it appears you carry a lot of rage in your heart. That anger comes off you in waves, which is not advisable for one seeking training in the art of Pencak Silat.. In order to be trained, you will need to let that anger go. You need to be level-headed and passive, as well as patient and compassionate."

Desslar's voice darkened as he replied flatly and vaguely, "I wish to be trained. I need the anger. It is my motivation."

Not even blinking, Nadir replied instantly, "Yes and that same motivation will be your own destruction. Man cannot survive with hatred in his heart. Hate only kills the hater, Mister Desslar. It would be wise to listen to my words."

"You do not know my other motivations, though, so you cannot say that I will be killed by my anger."

Shaking his head, Nadir Khan sighed, "Mister Desslar, you have what many Westerners err in when thinking about dying. Men can no less die in spirit than they can physically die. And your spirit, Mister Desslar, is crying out."

"For revenge…"

"NO! It is crying out for salvation! It is crying out for justice! If you choose to go down the path of revenge, it shall deter you from the path your spirit so longs for: absolution. Will you deny this? Will you deny your spirit's last hope to survive?"

The billionaire was silent, processing the impromptu emotional outburst from the other man, before he answered tentatively, "I can do it. I can fight for salvation and justice."

Holding up a brown hand, the monk shook his head and firmly spoke, "No, Mister Desslar, God is the only one who offers such things. You must seek God. Do you know where He is? He is in life! He is in the air we breathe! He is in the smiles and laughter of children! He is in the goodness of all humanity! He is especially, in the spirits of all mankind. You are about to partake in one of the most difficult quests in your life: the quest to protect."

Standing up, the dark-skinned man helped the burned rich man stand on his two feet. Placing both hands on the sides of his burned face, his brown eyes looked into Desslar's golden ones before chanting verses from the Vedas and speaking in low whispers despite the discomfort it caused Erik.

"You will hide behind a mask. I can foresee this, but you will be a protector. I will train you and give you all of my knowledge in order for you to guard your people. You will save the spirits of the dying. You will give hope where there is no hope…You will give life where it has died, and through that, God will return. But this job will not be easy…Nay, this journey will be strenuous and I will ask much from you and will take much from you. Are you willing to learn and give a huge part of yourself to dedicate to this task?"

Resolve and determination flooded through Erik and the man looked squarely into the Master's brown eyes and nodded affirmatively, "I am, Master. I am ready to give away myself…my life…to protect the innocent."

Smiling softly, the monk tapped his face lightly before turning his back to the billionaire. When he turned around, he held a walking stick made of bamboo, commonly called Tongkat, and motioned for Erik to follow him into the training grounds. The Pendekar's last words before the training began signified a new life for the rich man, Erik Desslar, and would forever change him.

"When I am finished training you, Mister Desslar, you will no longer be Erik. You will be a guardian. A guardian of the innocent."

This statement immediately transformed Erik's mind as he silently thought to himself, 'I will be the Guardian of Gorham City."

Author's Note: I apologize for the long wait in an update. College started and that was hectic enough, but I had to do extensive research into how I wanted to map out this story, so hopefully the effort is appreciated. Thanks for all reviews and alerts! As always, read and review! Thanks! --RainsP.