Growing up through the 70s and 80s, Bruce Wayne's tastes in entertainment were different from his peers.
While he could enjoy the likes of Flash Gordon and Star Wars as any other boy his age did, his true passion for films lied with old black and white serials. Productions from a bygone era even by then, cruder, simpler but somehow more charming than the flash and spectacle of contemporary films. He attributed this to his father's influence who made it a point to have the Lone Ranger and Zorro among the first film experiences Bruce would ever experience. Though they remained personnel favorites, series such as the Grey Ghost captured his imagination, presenting a crime-ridden city saved by one man and his pursuit of justice. Though he didn't know it until many years later, he attributed this fascination with the crime escalation rampant in Gotham his parents, somewhat successfully tried to keep him in the dark about.
But even as Bruce loved them, he knew they were make-believe, impossible stories about impossible men doing impossible things. Captain America and Wonder Woman were real. Hidden in his father's private collection were old propaganda films about them and their WW2 exploits, how they took on and defeated entire squadrons of soldiers by themselves. Liberating villages, cleaving tanks in half and sending the enemy into frightened retreats. All while performing the sorts of impossible things right out of a Zoro and Grey Ghost story, except even more incredible.
Of the two, Captain America was Bruce's favorite as there was more known about him in comparison to his more mysterious partner. Born a simple, fragile man with a slew of borderline crippling health issues, Steve Rogers' bravery made him the recipient of an incredible and lost formula, transforming him into one of the first superheroes the world had ever seen. A simple man from Brooklyn, rejected from the army numerous times and with no great prospects became a legend for generations to come. How could a child not fall in love with a story like that?
It's for this reason that Batman, a veteran of his own nearing 20-year long war, felt sentimental and foolish in a way he hasn't since meeting and helping Simon Trent rebuild his life a decade prior. Captain America himself, found and brought back to life was standing in front of him. A child's hero was right there and just by standing near him, exuded the same strength and wonder the propaganda films couldn't hope to capture.
He was almost disappointed by the fact he couldn't enjoy this feeling a little while longer. But, it wouldn't be Gotham if something promising wasn't stamped out.
"Fury sent you," He stated more than axed, already feeling an old bitterness for the man-in-question wash over him. Batman wondered just how much Steve Rogers knew about that sordid affair.
"He did," Rogers nodded again. "I don't know all the details, but I know the two of you have an understanding. Nobody from S.H.I.E.L.D. can come to Gotham or else you'll do something."
So he sends you as a loophole. Batman concluded quickly, confirming his assumption as he made his way to the signal and caught his first glimpse of the living legend. Though he was loathed to admit it, Fury had technically kept his word as per their agreement. He'd made it a point to keep a bug inside the agency running for years on end and Captain America becoming a member of it would have certainly made a blip on his radar.
This didn't bother him as much as Fury's subtle manipulation did. He knew who Batman was under the mask, and though their deal ensured that information never left his head lest all of S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed, and it would have been easy for one of his agents to slither through his personal effects over the dozens of parties he used to host in Wayne Manor and figure out Bruce Wayne's hero worship of Captain America.
No, what bothered him most was the fact he respected the whole damn plan and the fact he would have to play into it.
"Tell me, how much of that do you know?"
"Just that. When I tried to ask for more, he wouldn't tell me, said he was already breaking the terms just by mentioning it to me."
Using his own skills at detecting lies such as subtle body movements, eye dilation and such alongside the computer built into his cowl capable of following a person's heart rate from across a whole room, Batman couldn't find any lies there. Captain America was either an incredible liar on par with himself or the most guileless man he'd ever seen. He wondered if Rogers would have agreed to this mission if he knew all the details, and a small part of him hoped the answer was yes.
"So the guns, they're really from the aliens that attacked New York?" Gordon spoke up, no doubt sensing the tension building up and wanting to divert it into something more productive.
"Unfortunately so, sir and not just taken off the streets either. Somehow, in just this short amount of time, these inert weapons have been made operational. Nobody, not even the scientists at S.H.I.E.L.D. or Stark have pulled that off."
Not even I've done it. Though scant, he'd managed to get his hands on some Chitauri contraband off the market but so far, nothing he or Alfred did could make them work. Acquiring a functioning piece of that equipment would prove useful in the future when more alien freaks decide to attack closer to Gotham next time.
"Whoever these men are, they have no connection to the upper-level gun runners like Cobblepot or Black Mask."
"You're sure about that?" Gordon asked him.
"Penguin is too preoccupied worrying about his terminal lung cancer, spending his fortunes on any wonder drug to help save him. Sionis is working on setting a bounty on whoever finds these men. One of the banks they attacked this morning had hundreds of thousands of his own money stolen."
"How do you know that?" Rogers asked him.
"I paid them a visit last night," Batman answered matter of factly, noticing the Captain's neutral expression turn sour as his eyes imperceptibly narrowed at him. It seemed that Fury didn't shy away from revealing his method of doing things. "I intend to hit the lower end of the food chain tonight."
"I'll get more of my people out on patrol then," Gordon interjected again. "Hopefully, between all of us here, we can catch these bastards tonight without anyone else getting hurt."
"Just make sure they don't engage," Rogers cautioned. "Take it from someone who knows, you don't want to get hit by what these guys are firing."
"We do our jobs, they won't even get close to them." Deciding that now was not the time leave Jim hanging or else risk Captain America making a mess by heading out on his own, Batman walked briskly to the edge of the building halting only momentarily to look back at them. "Follow me."
With one swift motion, he unclipped his grapnel gun from his built and fired it towards a neighboring structure a few stories taller than the G.C.P.D. headquarters, propelling himself into the air. He was sent soaring across the street at a 45-degree angle and passed over it entirely to the next block of buildings. The second he touched down on the rooftop but before he fired again, a loud thud and grunt resounded from his left. Batman turned just in time to see the end of Captain America leap across the entire street and firm landing.
"Where are we going?" He asked as though it was the most normal thing in the world. It took Batman considerable effort not to look surprised.
"You'll know when we get there," Wanting to test his... partner, Batman grappled again, mixing this with bouts of gliding across the stony rooftops of Gotham city halting only momentarily to see if Rogers was still keeping up. Though he lacked any noticeable equipment save his famous shield, Captain America more than kept pace with him. Whenever Batman landed, the super soldier was only half a second behind him, continuing his extraordinary practice of leaping across entire city blocks.
The Gotham vigilante was under no illusions about his own, slight advantage. If Rogers was given the same equipment and training as him, he would no doubt leave Batman in the dust in a race across the city's rooftops. Even lacking the knowledge of the city's various intricacies and sporting decidedly rudimentary skills at traversing his surroundings, Rogers sheer power and speed was incredible. The only one who even began to compare to him was Slade, not surprising given the circumstances behind Deathstroke's own enhanced abilities.
A stray thought crossed Batman's mind, how familiar this felt to something from what felt like a lifetime ago. The feeling put him in an even fouler mood than anything to do with Fury. Putting the feeling aside, he focused on the fact Rogers was no doubt scrutinizing him as well, taking note of his movements and gear. Captain America may not be able to lie well, but that didn't make him stupid or lacking in cunning.
They'd reached the West Side of Gotham in under 15 minutes, halting just at the edge of the area of their first, and hopefully last, source of information. The area was run down as ever with burnt out cars littering the ground, street lamps barely functioning and buildings that could only be described as concrete shanty towns stacked on top of one another.
"God," Rogers said as he leaned over the edge, scanning the sight ahead of them. "How can people live like this?"
The tone of his voice reminded Batman of a rookie cop at his first murder scene. Of a man only then grasping what he was in store for with Gotham City. To hear that from Captain America, World War 2 veteran of all places felt... disconcerting. Batman knew he'd seen far worse than that during mankinds bloodiest war, but perhaps that was precisely what shocked him? This was a supposedly modern, civilized time.
"We're heading over there," At the far end of the northern street, shining against the blackness he pointed towards an old sign just underneath a street lamp saying Manny's Meat and Fish. "The stomping ground of an old acquaintance of mine, Killer Croc."
"Waylon Jones, right?" Captain America continued staring at West End. "Murder, manslaughter, aggravated assault,... cannibalism..."
The feeling of familiarity came back, harder this time around, he'd had this conversation with someone else before...
"Jones was born with a genetic defect, it made him a target of abuse by everyone, including his aunt who was incidentally the first person he'd ever killed," Batman began to account, wondering why as Rogers clearly knew all of this already. "He managed to find some semblance of family in a circus before it was burned to the ground with him as the sole survivor. The perpetrators were his next victims."
"And they've never been able to cure him," Rogers stated with a deflated voice, his eyes dropping and shoulders slumping as he let out a long, suffering breath. Observing him, Batman noted that this must've been the man between the films, between the missions, particularly the worst ones. It eerily mirrored his own, final failed attempt at curing Jones. One which cemented the fact he would never get a chance at getting better, not like Karlo or Victor did.
Gathering these feelings into his chest, Batman let out a barely audible breath of his own and as per his old training, let most of them flow out of him. Reaching for his belt, he prepared to grapple once again. "Somethings can't be fixed."