AU story: Bruce Wayne is a bitter man, hating the world for the death of his wife and parents. Can his old friend Lucius Fox change his heart?

A Bat Christmas Carol

With Great Respect For Charles Dickens

By

Part 4: Into the Past

Bruce Wayne got ready for bed. He climbed into his king-sized bed and looked at the clock. It said ten pm. He was about to snuggle under the covers when he heard the clock strike the quarter hour, then half past, then the three-quarter hour. Bruce was alarmed. It was as if time had sped up for no apparent reason. Then the hour struck. One o'clock?

A sudden warm light poured into the room. Though that description wasn't an accurate one. It was as if a point of light appeared then grew out from there. A figure appeared out of the light. It was hard to tell if the person was man or woman, boy or girl. The figure approached. It was as if the figure was undefined.

"Bruce Wayne, I have come."

"Who . . . Who are you?"

"I am the ghost of Christmas Past."

"Who's past? A past long gone?"

"No, a past more recent, your past," the Spirit said. "Come, walk with me."

"Where are we going? It's the middle of the night."

"Touch my robe and all shall be revealed."

Bruce did as the spirit said and they moved like a shadow through the ages. Bruce watched as time regressed and he was once again looking at a familiar figure, a boy of seven years of age, sitting alone at a desk. He was reading.

"Do you know this place?"

"I do," Bruce said, choking on the words. "I was sent here as a boy by my Uncle, even as I protested that I did not want to go. He thought being among children my age would help ease the pain of my loss."

"No one paid you any attention."

"They didn't understand."

"Let us look at another Christmas," said the spirit as he waved an arm.

Bruce watched in awe as the boy grew in stature and age. He was now ten years old, studious as ever, and yet still alone, until an older girl came running in.

"Cousin Bruce! I'm to take you home."

"Home, Kate? My Uncle hates the sight of me. Why?"

"No, Bruce you're not going home to my father's. I have news. My father has given up custody."

"Given up custody?" Bruce was confused. "What do you mean, Kate?"

"I'm taking you back to Alfred," Kate stated.

"Alfred, but Uncle George dismissed him," young Bruce stated.

"My father lied about the will. I found the original will in my father's safe. Uncle Thomas named Alfred your guardian. My father only wanted control of your vast fortune. After three years, with my help, Alfred was able to stop my father and he's looking after your fortune for you."

"I don't care about the money," Bruce said. "All I want is to find the man who killed my parents."

"You don't have to worry about that," Kate said. "The man's dead."

"What?"

"Someone found the man, shot him in the heart, so you can forget about that. It's over Bruce," Kate said. "Now you can go home to Alfred. My father's been dishonorably discharged, and he's being sent to prison."

"What about you?" young Bruce asked.

"Don't worry about me, I will look in on you. Right now, we're having Christmas with Alfred. Grab your things. You won't be coming back to this place."

Bruce hugged his cousin. He hurried to pack his bags, leaving the book behind that he had been reading.

Older Bruce went over and looked at the book. It was a book on criminology. "I wish I hadn't . . . "

"Hadn't what?" the spirit asked.

"Never mind, it's in the past."

The spirit waved his arms and the scene changed. Older Bruce saw himself as a teenager. A bat was flying around the room.

"Where did that thing come from?"

"There is a cave somewhere around here, Master Bruce," Alfred said. "They find their way into the house I expect."

"The cave," Older Bruce said. "I'd forgotten."

"Get rid of it," Teenager Bruce said. "Disgusting things. Probably has rabies. And have someone find the cave and seal it up. I don't want them coming into my house."

"Yes, young sir," Alfred replied.

"So, that is why?"

"Why what?"

"It is in the past, and no longer matters. Decisions were made that cannot be undone."

Once again, the Spirit waved his arms and older Bruce saw himself as a young man, learning all about the business that his father left him. Old Bruce observed his younger self. He seemed happy, and yet there was still a sadness that he could not shake. The spirit showed him a Christmas that would be his happiest moment.

Ra's Al Ghul came into the room, his head held high like a king and a young woman at his side.

"My daughter," the man introduced her. "Talia"

She was a beautiful woman. Ra's Al Ghul pushed her forward. She appeared to be shy. Other suiters came forward, but her father rebuked them. His aims were higher. Young Bruce came forward and bowed. Ra's nodded and the girl took Bruce's hand. They began dancing. Young Bruce only had eyes for her. Little did he know that things would change forever.

Bruce watched as his young self was lured into a private room. A guard stood outside the door as it was closed tight from prying eyes. Bruce turned away to give the couple privacy. His heart began to ache.

"I should have . . ."

"What did you say?" the spirit questioned.

"Nothing," Bruce replied.

"Let us see another Christmas moment." The spirit waved his arms.

"You have changed, beloved," Talia stated. "Please, do not make me choose."

"I can provide you everything he cannot."

"But he is my father. His ideals . . ."

"Are not mine," Bruce stated. "He would use my fortune like everyone else. I should never had married you. It was a mistake. I need to go to the office."

"But what about . . . "

"I no longer care," Young Bruce said, and he turned his back on the young woman. "Do what you want with him!"

"You fool!" the older Bruce yelled at his younger self. "You fell in love with her! She was your wife! Don't let her go!"

"She turned out to be a delicate woman. She had a child."

"My son," Bruce replied.

"She raised him until she died."

"Spirit, take me home!"

The spirit's words hit Bruce hard. Over time, he had become like Talia's father, only Ra's aim was to make the world new in the worst way possible, while Bruce had only became interested in gain, turning his back on those who truly needed him.

"There's one more shadow," the spirit said.

"Please, no more."

The scene changed to a circus, a circus that Bruce had refused to attend years before.

"Remember this?"

"Remember it, Alfred wouldn't let me forget. He insisted I attend."

"And did you?"

"No, it was a waste of time."

"Watch," the spirit demanded.

"Bruce watched the performers, his eyes going wide as he watched a boy tumble through the air, then be caught by his mother. The boy climbed down to the circus floor and went over to a baby sitting in a stroller. He pointed upward.

"Watch Mommy and Daddy, Timmy," the boy stated.

"What do they have to do with me?" Bruce questioned.

The older Bruce turned back and watched as the boys watched their parents. There was a scream as the ropes snapped. They watched horrified. The older boy raced out to the center of the ring, despite the ringmaster trying to hold him back. He kneeled in between them. The scene was an eerie reminder of what Bruce had also lost.

"I don't want to see any more!"

"Look closely at the boy, does he not look familiar to you?"

"Bruce's eyes went wide. "It can't be . . . "

"Believe me, he is. I must leave you."

"No! Wait!"

The spirit was gone and Bruce found himself back in his room.

Continues with Part 5