How he hated this place. Never did he want to have an entire city block torn down and uprooted more than this one spot. He didn't though. He couldn't. He needed this place to exist as a reminder. To make sure he never forgot why. Why he was doing this, why he would never stop, and why he should keep going. That's why he made damn sure that this area of the city was declared historic. So that way it would always be protected. He kept his eyes closed as he took a deep breath to try and steady himself. The recent revelations he had learned had thrown his mental discipline for a loop and had weakened his resolve. He needed to do everything he could to make sure that he stayed strong. After so many years of questions and dead ends, he was finally seeing hope at the end of this dark chapter. A chapter he needed to see through.

As he opened his eyes and exhaled, he looked up at the street sign and glared. Spray paint that was as red as blood were written over this street's real name. It had been written that way for so long that everyone in this damn cesspool only knew it by its blood soaked moniker.

CRIME ALLEY

It was here that one of the worse moments of his life happened. It was here that the person he once was faded away into the night. Just like the man that stood here so many years ago and altered his life with two shots of a gun.

"How are you feeling?" the woman beside him asked in a soft and caring voice. He couldn't help but smile as she looked at him with her green eyes behind a pair of thin framed glasses.

"I'm okay, KP." He said.

As Ron walked further down the alley, the two teenaged girls behind him slowly followed. One was of obvious Japanese decent, Hanna, with her dark hair shaped into a pixie cut. The other teen bared a stronger resemblance to the woman in the glasses right down to the red hair, save for the slightly paler skin. If anyone looked more closely at the red headed teen, they would have noticed that there was a small green hue to her pale skin. Both wore black overcoats over their normal clothes as they walked further into the dark and rather filthy alley behind Ronald.

"I don't get it." The young redhead, Lara, whispered to the girl next to her. "If he hates this place, why come here?" she asked.

"It's complicated." Hanna said.

"Are you going to tell me or just leave me hanging?" Lara asked, but was shushed by Hanna in response.

Ron came to an abrupt stop as he looked at the pavement before him. As he did, Hanna stood next to him and bowed her head. Ronald Dean Stoppable slowly opened his coat and removed four long stemmed roses that were carefully wrapped together with parchment paper. He unrolled the paper and handed two of the roses to the young lady beside him, which she graciously accepted. After another brief moment of silence, the both of them knelt to the ground and placed the roses on the pavement in front of them. After they had done so, both began to pray. Even though it had been so many years, he could still see the blood that had stained the concrete clearly in his mind. No matter how much rain or how many power washers. Even if the concrete were removed and replaced, he would still see the blood.

"Mom, what's going on?" the young redheaded teen asked her mother, Kim Possible.

"Remember when I told you I went to my fortress to learn about who I was?" she asked her daughter.

"Yeah. It was after you graduated high school."

"Your father was attending college here during that time. His parents came to visit, and here is where they were shot and killed. Your father saw everything."

"Oh my God." Lara said. "Did the police ever catch the guy?"

"No." Kim said as she took a deep breath. "Your father comes back here on the anniversary of their death to pay his respects." Kim said as she hugged her daughter close to her. Kim couldn't help but smile as Lara hugged her in return. The two continued to hug each other close until Ron and Hannah stood and rejoined them.

"You okay, dad?" Lara asked.

"I will be. Are you going to stay in Gotham overnight?"

"I've got to head back to Metropolis, but I thought Lara could stay with you this weekend and get to know her father a little more." Kim said.

"In other words, keep an eye on me." Ron said.

"Would I do something like that?" Kim asked him before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. "Behave." Kim said before giving both Lara and Hanna a hug goodbye and walked away.

"Um, sorry. About – you know." Lara said and motioned her head toward Crime Alley.

"It's okay." Ron said and popped his neck before taking one more glancing look.

"So are we doing anything special?" Lara asked.

"I've got a lead on a cold case I want to follow up on. Do you think you two can put aside your differences long enough to act as back up?"

"I think I can be more mature than the mutant long enough to get things done." Hannah said.

"Who are you calling a mutant, you"

"Enough." Ron said sternly. "We still have some time to kill before tonight. So, I thought we could drop in and see an old friend of mine."

"What kind of friend, bro?" Hannah asked.

"Why do you call our dad bro every so often?"

"Long story." Hannah said, really not wanting to explain.

"Every one keeps telling me that and it's getting really annoying." The red head complained.

"I'll explain later, Lara. Right now, I just hope you're not offended by grown men beating the living snot out of each other." Ron said as the two girls continued to follow.


"I don't believe it. You have a membership to Wild Cat Grant's gym?" Ron's father asked as he looked at the building in awe.

Despite being in actuary, Ronald's father had been a long time fan of the sport of boxing. One of his all-time favorite boxer's was the famed Ted Grant, otherwise known as the Wild Cat. Close to the end of the Vietnam War, Ted Grant was an underdog boxer from nowhere that ended up becoming the Heavyweight Champ. He was able to hold the title for several months before it was stripped from him when authorities discovered that Grant was moonlighting as a costumed vigilante that called himself none other than Wild Cat. He served little jail time, but his career in boxing was finished. However, that didn't stop him from opening his own gymnasium for the common every man and for the training of up and coming boxers.

"Believe it or not, this is a pretty good place to do some sparing." Ron said to his dad.

Ron had told his dad he had been studying marshal arts because of his adventures with Kim. What he didn't tell them was how he became so skilled or the secret school he often returned to when time allowed. He knew his father cared about him in his own way. The last thing he wanted to do was risk giving the man a nervous breakdown.

"How were you able to get a membership? You're still two years away from accessing your naco royalties." Ron's father said.

"That's the interesting part." Ron said and smiled when he noticed a familiar form walking up behind his dad.

"What can I say? The kid impressed me."

Ron's father turned around and his eyes widened. The only way that Ron could describe the look that was on his father's face would be to imagine if the pope had come face to face with the Virgin Mary with her son Jesus by her side. Ron laughed as he witnessed his father doing his best to keep from geeking out in the presence of his favorite boxer.

"So your Ron's old man? It's nice to meet ya. Yer kid's got a mean right hook, but needs to work on his left a little." Ted said as he offered his hand to shake. Slowly, Ron's father nodded his head while he shook the aging boxer's outstretched hand. From Ted's calmness and demeanor, it was obvious that he had encountered very similar interactions with his fans before. "Ron, I've been meaning to ask ya. I've got a few rookies that are having their first big fight tonight. Since your old man's in town, how about I set you up with a few free tickets."

"Thanks for the offer, Ted. I'll have to take a rain check. Mom's with him, and I'm taking them to a movie tonight. My treat." Ron said.

"That's real nice of you, kid. Which movie you seeing?"

"It's called The Terror with Basil Karlo. I'm taking them to the Monarch Theatre that plays those old movies."

"I heard of it. Be careful, though. That part of town has been going downhill fast for years. I'd try and see a matinee if I were you."

"I'll see what I can do."

"It's was nice meeting you, sir. Hope you have fun tonight." Ted said as he walked away to check on another boxer. Ron looked at his father and saw that he was still nodding slowly and moving his arm like he was shaking hands with Grant.

"Dad? Dad, are you still here?" Ron asked his father.

"I sh-shook his hand. I actually shook the hand that won the heavyweight title." His father whispered, making Ron chuckle.

"Come on, Dad. We still got to meet mom for lunch before getting ready for the movie." He said as he lead his father outside. After being able to successfully maneuver his star struck father into their family car, he spotted a pay phone a few feet away. "Stay here, Dad. I'll be back in a minute." Ron said to his father before closing the car door.

Ron didn't really have a job yet since he was attending Gotham U on a scholarship, so that meant he didn't have that much money. Every so often he would receive some money from his folks so he wouldn't starve to death and a credit card for emergencies. After the incident with his first Naco royalty check, he had learned his lesson when it came to spending money. So Ronald had learned the hard way to find a good deal and save money. However, a cell phone was out of the question since it could be so expensive. There was the Kimmunicator, but it was strictly for contacting Wade and emergencies. Not to mention that the last time he tried to use it as a phone, Wade threatened to activate a self destruct feature in the device. Since Gotham still had an abundance of pay phones at almost every turn, Ron made sure to pinch and save as much loose change as he could. After inserting the right amount of change, he was soon connected to the Monarch theatre.

"Hi, I was wondering what your earliest showing of The Terror was. You don't have The Terror anymore. What are showing tonight? Wow, really? You don't you have any earlier showings than that? And how much are the tickets? Okay, thank you very much." Ron said as he finished his call. After hanging up the phone, he quickly climbed into the passenger seat of the car and was relieved to see that his father was returning to normal. "The Monarch doesn't have The Terror anymore, but they have The Mark of Zorro instead. Their earliest showing is at eight."

"I think we can make that work." His dad said as he started the car. "I just shook hands with Wild Cat Grant."

"Yes you did, dad."

"Your mother isn't going to believe this."

As Ron and his father talked, they hadn't noticed a strange figure had been hiding around the corner. He wore a dark gray hooded jacket while the hood hid the upper half of his face. He did his best to stay out of eye sight and kept watching both father and son. From his vantage point around the corner he saw the car pull away from the curb and drive away down the street. After getting a good look at the car's license plate, he removed a pen and a small notebook from his pocket and quickly wrote down the number and made notes about everything else he overheard. He placed the pen back in his pocket as he reached into the other pocket and removed a small cheap cell phone. After dialing a number he forced himself to memorize, he glanced down to the notebook he was holding.

"This is Chill. I need to pick up an order for my employer for an eight o'clock appointment this evening. Will it be ready by then?"


"As I live and breathe. How you doing, Ron-man?" A very large and fit man asked as he and Ron gave each other a bear hug.

"I'm doing good, Wild Cat." Ron said and couldn't help but noticed that the man in front of him only looked like a man just entering middle aged.

"Hey, I only go by that name up on that little station of yours or in the ring. Here, it's just Ted."

"The place looks like it's brand new."

"Almost is. I came into some money and was finally able to spruce up the place a bit. Now it's one of the premiere boxing gyms in the city." Ted said when he noticed the two teens standing behind Ron and taking in their surroundings. "Who are the two pups?"

"Ted, these are my daughters. This is Hannah and Lara."

"Daughters? They're young enough to be your sisters."

"Last time I checked, so was your girlfriend."

"Point taken. So what brings you here?" Ted asked.

"What can you tell me about the Aces & Eights?"

"Why do you want to know about that dump?"

"I've got a lead on a case I'm working on. I'm hoping to find someone that used to sell weapons out of there a little over ten years ago."

"Ah, crap." Grant said and sighed. "I know who you're talking about. One of my boys used to run with one of the local gangs when he was a runt. They used to buy pieces off of him frequently."

"How did you find out about him?"

"The jackass tried to blackmail my guy out of some cash. So I went down there and – persuaded him to knock it off."

"I bet it was subtle to." Ron said with a little bit of wit and earned a chuckle from the old boxer. "Does this guy have a name?"

HOURS LATER

The stale city are had a mild stink to it in this part of the city. There was a small bite to the chill of the night air to warrant the use of a simple jacket. The night sky was still its putrid coffee brown, but no moon could be seen from the clouds overhead. It was almost as if the city was constantly plagued with nocturnal thunderstorms whenever they were on patrol. Every time the sun would set, it made the city looked as if it was always filthy with grime no matter how hard the city tried to renovate and maintain itself.

"What are we doing here?" Lara asked as she, Batgirl, and Batman looked down at the rather unimpressive dive bar from the rooftop they were standing on.

"It's owned by a man named Douglas Malone. He was a regular here until he bought the place five years ago."

"How was he able to pull that off?" Lara asked.

"The bar's previous owner declared bankruptcy. Also, Malone suddenly came in to a sudden flow of money into his bank accounts. He told everyone he won the lottery." Batgirl said.

"I'm guessing it wasn't the Power Ball drawing."

"Now you're catching on, mutant." Batgirl said.

"It was rumored that he used to be a small time arms dealer but has since retired." Batman growled.

"It looks like a hole in the wall. I don't even think Lobo would come in here for a drink." Batgirl said. "I take it this is where your cold case lead is."

"Follow me and say nothing unless you're told to." Batman said as he walked off the roof and glided his way to the dark alley to remain unseen.

"I think I like him when he's not wearing the mask." Lara said.

"You get used to it. Come on, baby face. It's time to learn how we do things in Gotham City." Batgirl said as she followed her boss' example.

"Would you quit it with the name calling, Bat Bitch?" Lara said and followed her sister and father.

The inside of the bar wasn't that different from the exterior. The walls were covered in poster for cigarettes, various beers, and rock to metal bands that had been posted during the eighties and nineties. Neon signs and dim lighting gave the only illumination to the bar itself while a two TV's sat mounted on opposite corners of the bar. The interior reeked from the constant supply of cigarette and cigar smoke that every surface more than likely had several layers of nicotine coating everything. The bare concrete floor was littered with match book covers, peanut shells, and cigarette buts. In one corner, where the only bathroom was located, smelled of a sickly and putrid combination of both urine and vomit where a large fifties era juke box sat playing Waylon Jennings. There were a few tables that could seat two people maximum with booths that could seat four lining the walls. Two large pool tables sat on the opposite side from the jukebox with their green tops stained with ruminants of various beverages of the past and blood from long forgotten brawls.

The people inside didn't look like anyone's stereotypical drunks or criminals. They looked just like everyone else you'd see on the street. Some looked like they had just gotten off work while others looked like your typical bikers. The ones that stood out the most were a few of the bikers. Mainly, the leather jackets and vests with various patches and large logo of their M.C. taking up most of the back. Behind the old bar that severely needed to be refinished and repaired was a woman in her late thirties. She wore a tank top and looked more like a soccer mom than a bar tender. She had a few dark circles under her eyes from not getting enough sleep while her hair was done up in a quick ponytail to keep out of her face. A few patrons were playing pool, a few other watching the sports or news on the TVs, while other made idle chitchat and nursed on their drinks. All of that came to an abrupt stop as soon as the Dark Knight entered the bar with his two junior partners. Everyone froze and looked at the tall vigilante as his black cape covered him like a medieval executioner's cloak. The tension became so thick that it almost replaced the amount of secondhand smoke.

"Douglas Malone." Batman growled.

Everyone immediately turned and stepped aside from a corner of the bar not too far from the pool tables. Sitting in a corner booth, while looking over a set of various notebooks, was a man in his early fifties with dark auburn hair that looked as if it was receding by the hour. He had a rather large and bulbous nose while a pair of horn rimmed glasses sat perched halfway down the bridge. He had a poorly trimmed goatee amid a broad face with heavily set five o'clock shadow covering the lower half of it. He wore a flannel shirt and a worn pair of jeans while a shot glass of bourbon sat in his right hand and a pen in the left. It seemed he finally noticed the quiet around him as he looked up.

"Oh, you bastards." He said as Batman began striding toward him. "I buy everyone a round and this is the thanks I get? You ungrateful bastards!" he finished as he saw that the Batman was now looming over him like an ominous shadow.

"Talk." The Dark Knight said as Malone stood and glared at him in return.

"I don't have anything to say to you. So how about you get the hell out of my bar before I shove this in your scowling face." Malone said and raised the glass of bourbon he had been holding. Batman immediately grasped Malone's hand with his and applied pressure to force the man's hand to close. The glass immediately shattered while shoving the various shards deep into the skin of Malone's palm.

"Joe Chill." Batman growled as Malone screamed in pain. Malone clawed at Batman's gloved hand, but quickly found that Batman's grip wouldn't relent.

"LET GO! LET GO, PLEASE!" Malone screamed, causing Batman to apply more pressure and earning another howl of pain.

As Batman continued his interrogation, one of the patrons removed a switchblade that he had inside of his jeans pocket. The sharp blade flipped into place as he stood and started making his way to the large cloaked figure. He held the knife in his hand, ready to thrust into the cloaked man's back and twist. That's when a glove fist shot upwards, striking him in between his eyes and knocking him onto his back and causing the knife to clatter to the floor. Lara just looked on in surprise as she saw that it had been Batgirl that had struck the would be attacker without even turning her head or body in the slightest.

"How did you know he was there?" Lara asked her.

"I listened." Batgirl said.

"What do you mean you,"

Batgirl suddenly turned and thrust her fist forward. Lara flinched for a moment, thinking that she was about to be hit. When she heard the fist striking something behind her, she turned and saw another patron was now on the ground. The patron clutched their now broken nose with one hand and still clutched a beer bottle that they would have used for a club in the other. Lara then turned back to face Batgirl.

"Okay. Now that was freaking cool." Lara said with a smile.

Her smile quickly vanished as she felt a pool cool being smashed against the back of her head and quickly frowned. She slowly turned around and saw a rather tall bearded biker with a large belly and a long sleeved leather jacket that was holding the now splintered pool cue in his hands. He looked at what was left of the large wooden cue before glancing back up at the red headed teen in front of him. When he noticed the large symbol that sat on the chest of her uniform, the man looked as if he was whimpering like he were a small dog.

"Don't you know that you don't mess with the S?" Lara asked him.

With almost little to no effort, Lara bitch slapped the biker with the back of her hand. The blow sent the man off of his feet as he turned in mid air and came crashing down on top of the bar itself before falling over backwards and at the feet of the bartender. The woman tending to the bar looked up for a moment at the trio in front of her before tossing her towel over her shoulder. She quickly grabbed her purse that had been hidden before walking out from behind the bar and out the door. In the mean time, Batman proceeded to apply more pressure to Malone's clenched hand and forcing the shards of the broken glass to cut even further into the flesh and muscle of his palm. It wouldn't be that much longer until the shards would be scratching bone and severing tendons while blood continued to drip profusely to the concrete floor.

"PLEASE!" Malone screamed.

"Joe Chill. Where is he?"

"I don't know." Malone whimpered and then screamed as Batman squeezed his hand again. "I DON'T KNOW! When I retired, I sold him my list of suppliers. I haven't seen or heard from him since! NOW LET ME GO!"

Batman reluctantly let the man's hand go and watched as he crumpled to the ground in a blubbering mess while he carefully held his shredded hand. With an abrupt turn, he began walking to the door and didn't even pay any attention to others around him, nor the three injured patrons that were on the ground. "We're done here." Was all he said.

"Anything useful?" Batgirl asked him once they were in the chilly night once more.

"Another bread crumb to follow." The Dark Knight said as he removed his grapple from his belt.

"So where do we go now?" Lara asked him.

"If Chill is in the arms business, there's a good chance that one of his rivals will know where he is." Batman said as he aimed the grapple for a large gargoyle overhead and fired.

"So who do we go to that deals in black market weapons?" Lara asked her sister.

"In Gotham, there's only one guy you go to when you want the best. It looks like we're headed to the Iceberg Lounge."


The night was cool and everything was covered in a thin layer of water from the small mist of rain that had fallen earlier. Ron and his parents left the theatre with smiles on their faces as they tossed the now empty popcorn bag into a near by garbage can. The interior of the old theatre looked more like it was a miniaturized version of European opera house down to the intricately carved figures around the stage and along the balcony railing. The screen even had a lavish red curtain that opened and closed to reveal the large screen behind it. Despite the fact that the movie had been in black and white, they all enjoyed it. Even though it wasn't the movie his mother wanted to see, she still had a blast. They knew they had taken their son for granted when he was growing up, so it was nice that they could still get together and be a family for once.

"I forgot how much I enjoyed that movie when I was growing up." Ron's father said.

"That was actually the first time I saw it."

"I thought your father loved westerns." Mr. Stoppable said.

"Honey, just because my father was a fan of westerns doesn't mean I am." Mrs. Stoppable told her husband.

Ron just smiled as he watched his parents. It felt good that they had fun tonight. He had spent many family moments with Kim's family, but he always felt like he was intruding on something. To actually have a moment with his real parents felt really good. Like something in his heart finally clicked. He thought he was over that feeling a long time ago. He didn't realize he still wanted something like this. So right now, he felt whole.

"Where did we park?" his father asked, snapping Ron out of his moment.

"Oh. It's on the other side of the block, remember? We couldn't park along here because it's a tow away zone." Ron said.

"We better start walking, then. It's getting pretty late and I need to call Anne to see how Hannah is doing." Mrs. Stoppable said.

"Why don't we cut through here?" Mr. Stoppable asked, pointing to a path right beside the theatre itself.

"I don't know, dad." Ron said as the alley looked rather questionable.

"It looks like it's a straight shot to the other side. We can save time and our feet if we just go this way." Mr. Stoppable said as he started to make his way to it.

"Dad, you do risk assessment. Doesn't this scream bad road to you?" Ron asked him.

"Your mother and I are on vacation, Ronald."

"Honey, I'm with Ron. I'm not sure about this." Mrs. Stoppable said.

"Come on, you two. Ron's been in places more dangerous than this when he went off with his little friend Kim." Mr. Stoppable said.

Reluctantly, they began to follow. Ron kept himself alert as he followed his parents though. Something was eating at him in the back of his mind. Like a strange sixth sense was screaming danger was near. As the three walked further down the alley, they didn't pay attention to a vagrant that had been sitting near a dumpster. He looked up for a moment before looking back down and took a deep breath. He had nabbed the clothes he was wearing from a donation box outside a local church. They looked worn, dirty, and like they should have been burned instead of donated. After they walked by, he leaned forward as he tried to formulate a plan of attack in his mind. He pulled out a pistol from his pocket and quickly checked to make sure it was loaded before flipping the safety off. As he put the gun back into his pocket, he noticed how bad his hands were shaking. He clenched his fists before taking another deep breath.

"Come on, Joey. Time to man up or shut up." He said to himself. Once he was done with this, he'd be a real gangster. A real made man.

He quickly stood and began following the family of three as they reached the halfway point of the alley. He quickened his pace and removed the pistol as they walked into the light of an overhead lamp. Within the matter of minutes, the silence of the night was broken when two shots clearly echoed off the walls and into the open night. The teen that was still in the box office booth of the theatre heard them and quickly called the police. When they arrived five minutes later, what they would find was only the shell of a young man on his knees as he stared blankly at who used to be two of the most important people to him in his life.


NOTE: Sorry it's been so long. Inspiration comes and goes. Hopefully, I'll continue working on this. I just hope you enjoy.