CHAPTER 3: Ashes of the Phoenix
Author's note: I think I'm gonna reserve these things for personal thoughts and updates. This one took a while due to work, exhaustion, and some difficulty coming up with things to write. Shoutout to the Discord server I go to for literature.
Diana walks over to Bruce as he reads over a tablet in his study. He seems to not notice her, being too absorbed in the tablet, and she decides to test that chance. Carefully walking up behind him, carefully making no noise, Diana raises her arms to startle him.
"If you think you can pull off what hundreds have failed, Diana, I'm sorry to disappoint you," Bruce says, mildly amused. Diana shrugged.
"Worth the effort. It's not every day one has the Batman's back turned to them. Reading anything interesting?" she asked.
"Rehabilitation progress reports from Arkham," he replied. Diana raised an eyebrow. He never said anything about a rehabilitation project.
"Since when has that been around?"
"Since I conceded to your advice a year ago," Bruce told her as he put the tablet down and looked at her. Diana's eye widened, a smile curving the edges of her lips.
"Oh, I should tell Clark. Maybe have him write a big story for the front page. We can get our picture taken for it," she teased, but Bruce kept staring at her. "What?"
"Diana, there may actually be some good that comes out of this, and I never would have given it a thought were it not for you. While many of them are incapable of reform such as Zsasz or Day –"
"Who?" Diana asked, trying to put the name 'Day' to someone Batman has faced.
"Calendar Man; serial killer; obsessed with holidays. One of the first killers I stopped. He's not important, Diana. There are names in this progress report that I never would have imagined capable of reform. And there's always the chance that they're faking it, but for once that isn't the first thought that comes to mind."
"Bruce, what are you getting at?" Diana asked, somewhat concerned at how unusually elated Bruce sounded.
"I'm saying that in the last year, you have been slowly chipping away at the cynic and skeptic in me, and I'm telling you that despite how afraid that makes me, I wouldn't want it to stop at all."
"The Phoenix Protocol was Master Bruce's most relevant contingency plan, where his identity as Batman maintains its secrecy but his ability to continue his public persona is made impossible," Alfred explained as he led the gathered group to a hidden tunnel in the Batcave.
"A cave within the Batcave," Gordon said, humor and disbelief mixed in the breath. "Even when I'm surprised, I don't feel surprised."
"This was…Bruce was careful letting people know about this. Considering what we're about to see technically breaks a lot of Justice League bylaws, he only told a handful. I think just me, Alfred, Barbara, and Tim know about this. Unless…" Dick trailed his words to look at Diana, who shook her head in reply. She then exchanged a look with Kal, both extremely concerned and worried. If Bruce was breaking some League regulations enough to keep it from her, what could it possibly be?
"If it's any consolation," Kate Kain told her softly. "Even I'm clueless as to what's going on here." They came to a large steel wall with a glass dome. Alfred leveled his right eye with the dome and waited. ACCESS GRANTED a male sounding mechanical vocalized. Several electrical locks sounded off and in a few seconds the steel wall had a rectangular door swing open.
"Well, this is interesting," a familiar voice hummed. Diana covered her mouth to stop herself from gasping. In front of her, behind a set of titanium bars, laid Bruce Wayne on a small bed with a stack of books by his side. Closing the book he had in his hands, he smiled devilishly and got up. "Had I known I was expecting visitors I would have grabbed my best suit."
*/*/*
"My god," Gordon rasped.
"I don't understand," Kate muttered.
"Alfred, what is this?" Clark asked, his eyes not moving away from the lookalike of Bruce Wayne.
"Go on Alfred, tell them why you and Batman locked up Bruce Wayne," the imposter said. "Tell them of how you teamed up to steal my fortune and livelihood. How –"
"Oh, do us the favor of keeping your mouth shut unless spoken to, Mister Elliot!" Alfred snapped, and Clark winced at the sudden ferocity in his tone. "Apologies, allow me to explain. Before you is formally renowned neurosurgeon Thomas Elliot, who took it upon himself to murder over a dozen people in order to remold his face to appear as Master Bruce in a misguided attempt to ruin him."
"Somehow he connected Batman to Bruce Wayne. From there it was one meticulous manipulation after another. We never suspected him until it was almost too late. When we finally managed to catch him, we were left with a predicament," Dick continued, allowing Barbara to follow suit.
"We couldn't let him roam free the way he is because he could very easily impersonate Bruce," she took a pause to think of what to say, which the impersonator took as an opportunity to pipe in.
"I am Bruce Wayne; this is all just –"
"Just hush up, will you!" Time groaned, then smiled. "Get it, because he went by Hush? Ah, tough crowd."
"As I was saying, we couldn't let him roam free but we also couldn't do any damage to him without risking Bruce's secret getting out. So he came up with only one solution."
"Which most of us weren't too keen on, but we had no real say in the matter. In the end, Bruce made a secret area of the Batcave to hold him prisoner. Originally it was meant for the Joker at one point but…" Tim's voice lowered as he realized at what he was thinking. "This is our best option of keeping people in the dark about Batman's identity as Bruce Wayne."
"Master Bruce came up with a plan where Mister Elliot would pose as him under strict conditions. Considering current affairs, I see no other alternative," Alfred proposed. Clark couldn't peel his gaze away from the man behind the bars. His mind began to race through different scenarios, various possibilities where the idea could work. The Justice League could keep watch of him, maybe even Alfred could keep tabs, with some of his actions being dictated to not arouse suspicion. Other ideas could have him…no, no best not to think on stuff like that.
"This…is really troubling and I wish he had consulted us, but considering the circumstances, you may be right Alfred," he said finally. A gentle, disbelieving scoff came from behind him, and Clark turned to see Diana storming off. "Excuse me."
*/*/*
This was a nightmare. It had to be. It just had to be. Diana couldn't stomach any of it. Bruce dead, an imposter living in the same space. No, it couldn't happen. She had to leave, she had to get away, she had to –
"Diana!" Kal called. She stopped; her fists clenched tightly that they began to pale.
"How?" she asked, her voice frantically stopping itself from breaking.
"It won't be easy, I know, but this is –"
"What, Kal? Acceptable? Appropriate? How can you be okay with this? That man will ruin Bruce's name and undo so much of the good he's done!"
"Diana, I know it's painful but we need to think about what Bruce would want," Kal tried to reason but was met with a sharp jab to his shoulder. Diana wouldn't hold back the tears this time; she let them flow freely.
"Please, for my sake just stop. Stop trying to justify this. Stop trying to make this something that's remotely reasonable. I assure you none of it is. I need to be away from here. I'm sorry," Diana's voice broke as she spoke from the heart. She had one place were she could find some form of comfort. She needed to head home.
*/*/*
Jim was going to lose all of his hair at the rate he was running his fingers through it. It was all…just overwhelming. It was growing harder and harder to come to terms with the last 24 hours. He noticed Superman had a slump in his shoulders as he returned without Wonder Woman.
"Will Her Majesty not be rejoining us?" Alfred asked. Superman shook his head.
"Actually…could we resume this discussion tomorrow? It's getting late, and I really should return to Metropolis," Superman said, his tone defeated and low.
"I believe that would be acceptable, Mister Kent. The finer details are preferably better discussed amongst ourselves. I do hope you understand," Alfred's voice was reassuring and polite, but Jim could discern a tinge of remorse. Superman nodded somberly and left.
"I'll ask it since no one seems to want to pour salt on the wound: who'll take the role of Batman?" Jim asked. He noticed the man called Thomas Elliot seem to take a vested interest in the conversation suddenly. No surprise there. Slowly, the eyes of those who worked alongside Batman began to fall upon Dick Grayson. His shock was genuine.
"Hold up, you all have to be joking right now? Me, going out as Batman?" Dick said sheepishly, then scoffed. "I mean I can't just leave Blüdhaven unprotected."
"I'll take over as Nightwing," Tim offered.
"Not happening, Tim," Dick told him.
"As much as I hate to admit it, there's not much of an alternative," Kate said.
"Sorry for interrupting," the imposter spoke after silently observing the group. "But I can't help but piece together the fact that Batman is dead."
"What, you gonna gloat? Gonna throw a party?" Dick asked, his anger rising as he walked to the bars, just looking for an excuse to hurt the man. A small and thoughtful smile was plastered on the imposter's face.
"I've reconsidered my circumstances. You need me to play Bruce? Fine, I'll agree to the conditions and do whatever you want me to."
"Why should we believe you?" Barbara asked, disbelief practically pouring from her mouth. The imposter's grin widened.
"I sought to ruin Bruce and take everything from him, but now…now I can actually be Bruce. What more could I ask for?" he looked at everyone in front of him. "I'll let you finish deciding how Batman's disappearance can be explained in a clean manner. I've got lots of plans to think about."
"Dick, you want to escape Bruce's shadow, I get that, but there's no other alternative now. We are sitting on a powder keg with a power vacuum and it won't take much for things to blow up. Gotham needs a Batman and you are the best option we have," Barbara pleaded. She took his hand into hers and stared deeply in her eyes. Jim knew they had feelings for one another once upon a time and he always wondered if they ever resolved those feelings before they parted.
"I'm gonna hate it, you know."
"Master Bruce often confided in his pride of how you took it upon yourself to pursue your own path without relying on him. I've no doubt that he'd be even more proud to know that this path you have taken has led you to taking the mantle," Alfred chipped in. A long moment of silence followed, all eyes on Dick.
"I'll think it overnight," he finally said before storming off.
"Coward," Kate muttered under her breath before taking off on her own.
"Family," Tim shrugged, before he too left. Barbara turned to face her dad.
"Can we talk? Somewhere less open? Preferably at home?" Jim smiled tiredly.
"Sure, I'm sure there's a lot on your mind," he said, taking her wheelchair away, leaving Alfred with the imposter who would take the place of Bruce Wayne.
*/*/*
Superman entered the apartment through the patio entrance to see his wife rocking their infant son, humming a soft tune.
"Hey hon, how you holding up?" she asked softly. Clark said nothing as he removed his suit and dressed himself in civilian clothes. "Clark? Are you okay?" she pressed; her concern evident. Clark opened his mouth to speak but closed it when no words came out. Falling to his knees, Clark felt his jaw tighten as tears began to well up. Lois put Jon down in his crib and wrapped her husband in a hug.
"He's gone, Lois. I was too late to save him and now my brother is gone," Clark cried. After hours of putting up a front, of wearing a mask of calm and quiet resolve, Clark finally let it melt as he poured his heart out to his wife. "I wasn't fast enough, I overestimated how long I had to get to him. I should have done more, I –"
"You did everything you could, Clark. Don't blame yourself, don't blame anyone but the Joker. You couldn't have done a thing, don't try to convince yourself otherwise."
"Lois, my brother is dead and I've lied about it to the world. What does that say about me?"
"It says that you're making sure that what he dedicated his life to is kept safe. He would want this, for the people of Gotham to never doubt that the Batman will be out there keeping the criminals in check. Never question this decision, Clark. It's for the best," her comforting words helped calm him down. He stood up and walked over to Jon's crib.
"Diana is hurting more than I am. I…I feel like I've failed her, Lois. She warned me, I should have tried harder."
"Clark, there is only one thing you can do for her now, and that's to be the best friend you can be."
"I might need your help," Clark muttered, a small smile flashed at his wife. "She's expecting." Lois took all of a single second to register what she heard and her mouth found itself covered by her hands. She fell into Clark's chest as she too began to weep, but whatever for, Clark could only surmise.
The days to come were bound to be difficult.
*/*/*
The doors to the Iceberg Lounge opened as Oswald strolled through, escorted by suits and armored men. A wide grin was plastered across his face as he lit a cigar and polished the piece of broken glass around his left eye.
"Welcome back Mr. Cobblepot," one of his men said, the markings on his jacket telling Oswald it was one of his lieutenants. He never bothered with names though; not enough time to learn a name of someone who was just a cog in his empire.
"Good to be back, lad," he replied. Turning to the suits, his grin widened. "Make sure the gents get paid in full. And do keep that phone I gave you on at all times. I like to keep the best lawyers money can buy on retainer after all."
"Rest assured, Mr. Copplepot, we will be ready to come to your side at the drop of a hat," the leading suit said. Oswald laughed and waved them off. Inhaling deeply of his cigar and blowing out smoke, he waited for the suits to be out of earshot.
"So, is it true? The Bat survived?"
"Word is he's up in that space station of the JL, but no one's confirmed anything yet," his lieutenant told him. Oswald made a small groan that turned into a sigh. He should've guessed the Batman would find a way out of the clown's plan. But he didn't get out of it unscathed.
"So the city's on edge, I take it? With the clown being dead and every scrap of turf he had being up for the taking?"
"Cops and the sidekicks are patrolling the area, but by the looks of it things are up fro grabs, Mr. Copplepot. Should I put the word out to move in?" Oswald thought on the idea for a moment. On one hand, without the Batman, crime would swell as the GCPD and the Bat's minions incapable of being everywhere. But the way it worked with the Batman was that he never needed to be everywhere, just at the right place at the right time. It was his superpower, being a massive inconvenience to the honest criminal. With him out of commission, many things would be much easier. But on the other hand, acting now while the anvil was hot may be costly. Everyone would want a piece of the Joker's pie; every one of his storehouses, every single supply line he had, even the numerous materials he had to make his bombs and gases. All things that could give the eager thug an edge in the coming war.
"No, we wait. Wait for the vultures to come and go while we stalk the bigger prizes. But I want everyone on alert; Dent's still out there and while the Joker's truce held, with him dead there's no reason our war won't resume. And get me my phonebook; I need to make a few business calls."
"Right away, Mr. Cobblepot," the lieutenant said. Oswald sat in his office chair and smiled wide. Gotham was heading towards a new world, and Oswald Cobblepot was going to ensure he was the one dragging it as it kicked and screamed.