It's been a really shitty week for Black Mask. The man grumbles angrily as he paces in the old warehouse. He's had the damn Knight and his little brood on his back hard. The vigilantes were systematically destroying his entire fucking empire, and he couldn't do a fucking thing about it. Beside of course, try for more deals. Get as much drugs, guns and everything in between to help keep his crumbling position as the biggest crime lord intact.

At this point though, Cobblepot or even Dent were going to take this from him. He wouldn't have that, he wouldn't. Which is why he would like his seller to hurry the FUCK up. He growls as he grabs the nearest of his goons. "Hey! What the hell is taking this guy so long!?" He screams at the henchman, who is jittering in Sionis's grasp. It pisses him off even more.

"I don't know boss! They should be here by now!" Sionis smacks the man as hard as he can. "OF COURSE HE SHOULD FUCKING BE HERE! IT'S BEEN ALMOST AN HOUR PAST THE FUCKING DEADLINE!" Sionis screams as loud as he can, before stomping brutally on the man laying in front of him. After the man's cries of pain turn to pathetic whimpers, he stops, and then turns to look at his other goons. He stares at the five men.

"If he's not here in five minutes, all of you are going to be laying there next to this piece of trash." Sionis angrily declares. His men all flinch. Good. Sionis wonders briefly about lighting a cigarette, but before he can reach for his pockets, a loud thump has him turn around quickly. His boys all raises their guns at the... The corpse laying next to him. He's able to recognize it. It's his fucking seller. No wonder he was late.

Another thud nearby has both him and his men whip around to stare at... A man in a red, armored helmet. He's wearing a red hood over it, connected to the bluejean jacket he has on. The man has a white shirt underneath, with black jeans and gloves on. He thinks the man's wearing dark combat boots, but it's hard to make out in this light. He angrily scowls.

"Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you here?" He asks, as he raises a gun to the large man. The man tilts his head ever so slightly. "I'm here for you, Roman Sionis. Black Mask." The deep voice is hidden behind a voice modifier, but it doesn't stop the chill Sionis feels. His grip on his gun tightens. Still, he gives a trademark business smile that he's practiced a thousand times.

"Well, what can little old me help you with? You killed my seller you know? I might not have what you're looking for." The crime lord says, keeping his voice even as possible. The large, red hooded man shakes his head. "I don't need guns, drugs or slaves." Sionis raises an eyebrow. "Then what the fuck do you want?" He asks. The man scoffs, he thinks.

"Your life."

Sionis' last thoughts that ran through his head, was that he knew who this person was. But, it couldn't b-

(...)

Lance frowned as he stared at the security cams he and Tim had installed throughout the city. Said teen was sitting next to him, drinking a deep cup of coffee. "I just... I just don't understand why the Red Hood is here." Tim says. The newly turned sixteen year old types faster on the computer. Lance too, wonders why the serial killer has turned his attention to Gotham.

"First he showed up in California a year and a half ago, terrorized the place, killing every rapist, convicted pedo and murderer. He also took down a few of the Titan's major villains. He then went from city to city." Tim puts a bunch of markers over a digital map of the USA. Lance chewed on his lip. The Red Hood was... Odd. Lance didn't give him any thought at first. It'd been a long, long time since he operated in California with the Titans. It wasn't his business to go after a serial killer not even from (or in) Gotham. Yeah, the Red Hood was Joker's old alias, but there wasn't any need for him to get involved.

(Lance didn't ever want to think about that clown ever again. All the damage he caused. How he murdered his family. His first crush.)

But then the man started to kill supervillans. Notably, the Titan's villians. He'd pulled up some footage that was available in a few of the fights. The Red Hood... He fought... He fought like a Bat. Like Robin. Lance didn't like this. Not one bit. He was considering going after the Red Hood, but then the man was seemingly going from city to city.

"He took down a trafficking ring in Ohio, tore apart a large drug ring in Los Angeles, and hunted down a serial killer in Chicago. He stayed there a while..." Tim said, sighing heavily. "And now, he's in Gotham. Mask is dead, as well as most of the people working for him." A map of Gotham appeared on the computer, and a few red marks showed the locations of the murders.

"He's also been seen killing a few rapists and murderers in the city the last few days." More red marks appear, and Lance's heart stops. These patterns... "This is... These murders happened alongside one of Br-Batman's old patrol routes." Lance knew Tim knew who Batman was. But still, the Red Hood is bringing back memories of Bruce. Of Jason. Of Dick. He's not... Not entirely composed right now.

"Really? If he's been doing this for a couple of days, you think he'll do it tonight?" Tim asks, unaware of the pain digging into Lance's heart. Lance shakes his head, willing the hurt down. Pushing it into a box that he won't open. Hasn't opened in... In nearly eight years. The Arkham Knight takes a deep breath. "I'll check some of Bruce and Jason's routes. You and Steph can take mine and Bruce's routes." He says, and Tim hums, before he looks up to Lance. Tim frowns.

"What about Carrie?" The Knight shakes his head, almost as violent as last time. (For a moment, he can see Carrie tied up in Arkham. In his room. He can't breath.) "No, she's going to take Overwatch's job tonight. Red X and Spoiler are suiting up." Tim nods, and pulls out his phone. "Should I text them?" The Knight nods. He knows the three have their own group chat away from him. It's fine. He's not entirely up for humor and memes. Hasn't been in a long time. The Knight takes another look at some of the patterns the Red Hood has created.

He doesn't like a ghost with Bat knowledge. Or Bat fighting prowess. He'll take this Joker reject down. Permanently, if need be.

(...)

"I want it to be known, I haaaaate this." Overwatch complains into the comms. The Knight would normally find it endearing. Right now though... "Overwatch, you've got an important job tonight. You know that, right?" He says carefully, trying to find the words, but seemingly failing as Carrie snorts angrily.

"I know, I know." She snaps. Lance wants to sigh. Since when did he become Bruce? This... Fuck, he's shaking. All these memories lately haven't been doing him any favors. He takes a deep breath. "I know it was unfair to bench you tonight." He says, and only silence is heard from the comms. The only sound one could make out was his grapple as he traveled alongside the skyline.

"Look I... You're one of the most important people in my life. I don't want to risk anything tonight. Please." He says, the last word coming out so quiet, he's not sure she could hear him. After a moment, he hears a sigh. "I love you too Dad... Just for tonight, alright?" Carrie says, and Lance heaves a heavy sigh of relief.

"That's good enough for me. I just need tonight. Thanks kiddo. Love you too." He says, and pats himself on the back for being a better conversationalist than Bruce. Lance continues his trip through Jason and Bruce's old patrol routes, when he can hear gunshots nearby. Lance does a near ninty degree turn in mid-air, and practically flies towards the sound. More gunfire is heard as he closes in a few blocks away from the noise.

By the time he's there, he catches a glimpse of the Red Hood firing one last bullet into a down man. Gangbangers, most likely druggies or an ambush. Whether for the Hood or for the gang remains to be seen. He lets the grapple drop and the Red Hood whirls around to point his guns at Lance.

Neither party moves.

The Knight cracks his neck. "So, The Joker huh?" A bullet is fired right by his feet. "Don't ever say that clowns name again." The Red Hood says. A box is checked in Lance's head. He frowns. He doesn't like this. He folds his arms. "Well, always nice to meet a fellow hater of that good for nothing corpse." There's what sounds like a harse scoff from the man.

"You have no idea how much I despise him." Another box checked. Lance gulps. "I probably have an idea..." He says carefully, and the Red Hood just shakes his head as he lowers his guns. "Did he take your family from you? Did you have to watch as your family was ripped apart by that thing!?" Lance shook his head slowly.

"Can't say I was there for that... Tell you what, how about you drop the guns and we can talk about all this and more down at the-" The Red Hood quickly raises his guns and fires a few rounds at Lance. The bullets graze him mostly, as he dodges around. A few hit him hard though. He's thankful the armor has gotten better over the years. The pain sucks, but he's had worse. Much, much worse. Lance, after ducking and twirling to avoid more shots, throws out a couple of Batarangs. They hit their mark, disarming the man.

Lance rushes forward, and him and the Red Hood are locked into a... A very familiar game. One he and Jason did so many times. They block and parry each others strikes perfectly. The Red Hood, despite not having any real armor, nor being a meta/enhanced, is holding his own very, very well. In fact, Hood is seemingly looking for a weak point in the armor. Every hit the Red Hood manages to land, if it has no effect, he never hits there again. He's smart. Very smart, and equally well trained.

Lance is getting terrified that he knows exactly who this is, and he doesn't like it. Not one bit. Hood goes for a wide punch, one designed to look like a feint that is meant to fool a reasonably trained fighter into looking for the other attack. It never comes of course, because it's a false feint. Lance grabs the hand, and uses all of his strength to toss the man a few feet away. The Red Hood grunts in pain as he lands, and Lance pulls out his own pistol.

"Hands where I can see them." He says threateningly. The Red Hood just stays on the ground, shaking his head. "Just kill me now. It's what I deserve." He says, and Lance's heart breaks as he hears his younger brother say that. Lance drops his gun. The Red Hood doesn't move. He just stares at him. Lance shakes his head slowly, and then takes a quick look around.

No one is anywhere close to them. They're in Crime Alley now. The police wouldn't come in here if an army was marching through the town. And everyone else was far way from the gunshots. The Knight raises his hands, and takes his helmet off. The Red Hood somehow goes even more still as he looks at Lance. Lance smiles, as he walks over to his younger brother.

"I... I don't know how you're alive. But I'm glad. Let's just... Just talk, please." Lance says. The Red Hood, however, doesn't move. Not even when Lance offers Jason a hand. Instead, he just looks at him. Really looks. Lance laughs softly. "Paranoid huh? Ok. The Batcave entrance was ten forty eight. I was the second Robin, and you were-"

"Batman." The Red Hood says, and Lance's eyes widened. The Red Hood pulls the hood off, and reaches for his helmet. He undoes a few latches, and Lance can't stop his heart from beating so damn hard he thinks it's going to stop.

"... Dad?" He whispers quietly.

Several Years Ago

Bruce cannot stand it. Not anymore. His boys, his children are gone. All gone. Barbara too. All because he allowed the damn clown to live. Well, he's going to fix that. He's going to find him tonight, and he will END that clown. The Joker better enjoy his final night, because once Bruce is through, he won't ever hurt anyone again.

Except once more, Bruce hesitates. His own father helped so many people, valued human life above all else. No matter what happened, Bruce knew his father would never kill anyone. Ever. So, Bruce hesitates. And his world crashes in fire and laughter.

He's lucky, really, that he jumped through the window when he did. If he had done it a millisecond later... He'd be dead.

... He dies from his wounds not a block away.

(...)

He comes to, surrounded by green. By rage. By hate. Whether or not the hate is for himself, he doesn't know.

(...)

When the rage calms down, he finds himself in a place he left a long time ago. The League. Nyssa told him everything. Her assassins found him, dead on the street. They rushed his body back here, and as quickly as they could. His soul was able to return to his body, she said.

Then, why did he feel so empty?

(...)

Bruce Wayne is dead. Batman is presumed dead. That's the official line, anyway. Alfred was confirmed to be dead once the Manor exploded. Yet another part of his life torn from him. He feels almost nothing, nothing except hate. Now the closest thing he had to a father was gone. The last bit of family he had, all gone.

Maybe... Maybe if he had killed the Joker, things would have been differently?

(...)

Yes, he decides later on. Yes, it would have been different. He would have still had his family. And yet, all he can do is try to save others from this fate. He goes back to officially being a part of the League. Partially to help Nyssa, partially to stop Ra's. Ra's Al Ghul was someone else who should have died a long time ago. He can't kill him just yet though. He has a few more lessons he can learn first.

(...)

Firearms. He's hated them since he was a child. He's also hated murder. It's time to stop being a baby. Stop being afraid. He trains. Bruce gets good. Very good. He trains with the League and undertakes missions. Nyssa always confirms that the people he's tasked with killing actually deserve it.

They almost always do. For the ones that don't, Bruce fakes their death. Sends them on their way.

And finally, he's ready.

(...)

He shoots Ra's in the head while he's asleep. And then Nyssa and him cut Ra's into tiny pieces. They destroy the Lazarus Pit, and Nyssa overtakes the League.

Not a single person ever learns of this, surprisingly.

(...)

There's a new vigilante in Gotham. Calls himself the Arkham Knight, Nyssa tells him. He's killed a few times, but not anything like what Bruce has already done. Still, he's a better hero than Bruce ever was. Bruce sees green when he learns that the Knight takes on a sidekick and dares to call her Robin... But it's not enough to make him go back.

He'll never go back.

(...)

He leaves the League. Nyssa doesn't need him anymore, and he doesn't need her. She does give him a parting gift though. 'Batman is dead and buried. The man who was weak is gone. Let the strong one remain.' She had said. Bruce isn't completely comfortable taking a name from the Joker.

But he was scared of Bats too. Why not become something else that he's afraid of too? Maybe this will ground him. Help focus him too.

(...)

He starts off in California. So many people had hurt Dick, Lance and Jason here. He gets to work with the small fry first. Then he goes bigger and bigger until he's killing the Teen Titan's villains for them. They go by the Titans now apparently. It suits them.

It would have suited his sons too.

(...)

He goes to Chicago next when the heat gets too high. It's got crime - not as bad as Gotham, but it's enough - and it... It starts to feel like something resembling home.

(...)

Eventually, he gets pulled. Pulled back there, back to the city that took everything from him. He starts off by killing Black Mask. Sionis had it too good for too long. Bruce starts to doing some of his older patrol routes. He thought he'd feel better being back home, but everywhere he looks... Everywhere he looks, he sees his sons.

Dick is flying across the rooftops, howling in delight. Lance is eating next to him, telling him stupid jokes. Jason is comforting the people of Crime Alley, telling them that they're strong. They'll get through this.

His heart hurts. It really, truly hurts.

And then he meets the Arkham Knight. The man that Gotham 'deserves'. They fight, and the Knight is good. He can see some of Slade's training, as well... As well as some of his own. His shock is enough that his focus breaks, and he's tossed to the ground.

And... And Lance is staring at him. Older, more rugged, and a J scar on his cheek.

He... He can't. Bruce rips his helmet off, carefully to avoid the bomb wired inside. Lance gasps, looking at him with horror in his eyes.

"... Dad?" He says, his voice shaking. Bruce can't help it. He stands up slowly. And then hugs his son.

His son is alive.

(...)

Lance quickly takes... Takes Bruce to a nearby safehouse. They don't say anything on the way. It's only when they get there do they start talking.

Bruce tells Lance of his time in the League. How Nyssa helped him. How he helped her take over the League. It explained why he never saw any assassins in Gotham.

Lance then tells Bruce everything. How he escaped the Joker. How Slade and his kids opened their home to him. How he came back to Gotham to see it all fall down, and how he's tried the past near five years to make it all better. The two are sipping on some tea. Alfred's favorite to make.

"You... You've been busy." Bruce says, his eyes never leaving Lance's. Lance bits a lip. "Bruce I'm... Look, I'm sorry for telling the clown-" Bruce's eyes momentarily go green, and he slams his hand against the table. Lance stops talking. Bruce takes a deep breath, and sighs.

"It's... It's ok Lance. I cannot imagine the stress you had to have undergone. I'm... I'm proud of you." Lance wants to scoff, but instead, he slowly nods. The two sit in silence for a short while longer. "I've thought about things to say to you, if I ever saw you again." Lance starts, but then chuckles. "None of it makes any difference now though." Bruce reluctantly nods.

"Yes. I'm... I'm sorry Lance. If I had thought for a second that you were still alive, I'd have-" Lance laughs, but it comes out more like crying. "Why didn't you go straight to that fucking clown!?" He yells through tears. He then makes a choked sobbing noise, and Bruce quickly hugs him. Lance doesn't have the energy to fight him off.

"I... I didn't know. Not until he sent me that video. I broke into Arkham and beat him so badly that..." Bruce shakes his head. "I was so close to you. I was so close, and yet I failed you. I can't stop failing all of you." Bruce starts to cry now, and Lance doesn't think he's ever heard that before. He slowly puts his arms around his dad. The two sit there, crying, holding each other tightly. They certainly have gone through so much, Lance thinks. He's been considering it lately, and honestly, he thinks Bruce needs it as well.

After a few minutes, Lance laughs softly, making up his mind. "Man B, we're fucked up." Bruce makes a sort of half coughing sound. He almost laughed, Lance notices. "Language. But yes, you're right about that." Lance slowly pushes his dad away.

"Well, I... I might know something we can do to not be so messed up." He says, and Bruce raises an eyebrow. Lance simply smiles at his father.

"Therapy, of course."