Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or its characters.
Caped Crusader
Responsibilities
October 31. Halloween. Bruce Wayne arrived at Wayne Tower at nine o'clock on the tick. He didn't want to seem tired for the meeting. Still, a yawn slipped out. A few executives nudged each other in the ribs. They knew a couple things that could exhaust Bruce Wayne like that.
"In conclusion, I shall appoint a new Board of Directors to Janus Cosmetics. Of course, the current owner will receive a generous severance package. The Sionis family did a lot of good for Gotham. I would hate to see this one mistake sully their good name." Despite his enthusiasm, the board seemed less than impressed.
After the meeting, Lucius Fox wished for a meeting with Bruce alone. He expected a lot of things from Lucius Fox. He would have never suspected a stiff slap to the side of the head from him. Lucius then went on to imply that he handed his equipment over to an escaped mental patient.
"Trust me. Everything will work out. Batman . . ."
Lucius clutched his sinuses. "Batman? So this escaped mental patient has a name. Can furnish me with an address too?" Bruce shrugged helplessly. "God, you don't know where to find him. Great!" Lucius looked ready to throw up. "Do you know what the boys at Blackgate will do to money bags like us?"
Bruce reassured him that no one would get arrested. After the business transaction, Bruce Wayne made sure to list the procured items as stolen. Even if anyone recognized the equipment as coming from Wayne Enterprises, they didn't have a case against them. "Well, at least tell me why, Bruce."
Anger flashed in Bruce's eyes. "Why? I don't know. Because people get mugged coming home from work every day of the week. Because many consider life in Gotham marginally better than most Third-World countries. Because Carmine Falcone owns half the city Sal Maroni doesn't."
Lucius patted Bruce on the shoulder. "I know you miss them, Bruce. I miss them too. Sometimes, I want to take a baseball bat to the head of the person responsible for their deaths." Lucius gave Bruce a knowing look. "But helping Batman won't bring them back."
Though Lucius did not fully comprehend his dual identity, he knew the basics. Bruce believed that Batman could rid Gotham of evil. Lucius Fox questioned that belief and his doubt shook Bruce to his very core.
James Gordon, apparently still a lieutenant after twenty years on the force, had taken Joseph Chilton to jail. When he checked his record, he found outstanding warrants for his arrest. His record didn't include the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne, a fact Bruce both cherished and despised.
On the one hand, no one would ever connect Joe Chill to Bruce Wayne. On the other hand, his parents' murderer would forever remain a faceless nameless demon in the public's eye. A bogeyman who gunned down Gotham's wealthy elite, people once thought immune to street crime. Years of training wasted on a one-eyed caricature of a man who wet himself when confronted by a real-life bogeyman.
Bruce Wayne knew a lot about runaway myths. His myth, just one-day-old, had received media exposure. Everyone theorized about the Batman, even his earliest eyewitnesses. Bruce did not trademark his image; so street vendors had slapped his bat symbol on everything they could sell.
To say the least, it cheapened the effect he hoped for. He wanted people, especially criminals, to fear him. Instead, they celebrated Batman as a merchandising icon, a boon to the tourism industry. Bruce wanted to help the city but not like this. No matter how hard Batman brooded, people still saw him as a superhero, a comic book character brought to life, no more threatening than a Saturday morning cartoon.
Still, he tried to stay optimistic. Batman had done what he set out to do. He had taken down two criminals without getting himself killed. At this rate, Batman might have an impact on the rampant street crime. In one night, he had stopped a mugger just by exuding an air of menace. With time, that effect would magnify. Gotham would turn into a giant haunted house with mobsters shooting blindly into the dark.
Before Batman turned in last night, he placed bugs throughout known gangster locales, even the Iceberg Lounge. If anything happened to Sal Maroni and Carmine Falcone, the major movers and shakers of the Gotham underworld, the tension between Oswald Cobblepot and Rupert Thorne would erupt into an all-out war.
As he came home, Alfred treated him with a recording of the results. Films would make a person think that a bug in the right place revealed everything. That proved far from true. Mafia talked about matters that everyone present had prior knowledge of. It made their conversations somewhat of a coded language.
Still, the conversations kept coming back to two names. The Roman and the Boss. It didn't take a criminologist to see that as a reference to Carmine Falcone and Sal Maroni. The conversations painted a picture of an illegal arms deal tonight. Bruce Wayne might not attend Selina Kyle's party after all.
Alfred sighed in frustration. Even the thought of Bruce having pretend happiness filled him with hope. His obligations to Batman ran those hopes into the ground. Alfred would make up a story about a nonexistent business deal or an equally nonexistent Swedish runway model. Only one part of the lie rang true. Bruce Wayne had other obligations to attend to this evening.