AUTHOR'S FOREWORD:

The following series of books (or The Prodigal Wayne) is a Batman AU storyline that draws inspiration from the many various Batman stories, be it the comic books, the animated cartoons, the movies, the video games, various fan artwork, fan fiction (like this), etc.; but it is mostly set in the DCAU with major changes. As usual, I do NOT own anything in this story, except for the words I write — unless, of course those words are lifted from any other source material, then they are copyrighted by the original writer and source material. And of course, Batman and his series of characters are owned and © by DC Comics.

That said, the following series is also dedicated to all of the members in the DC Animated and Live Action Universes who are no longer with us: such as Adam West, Christopher Reeve, Bob Kane, Bill Finger, Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, Margot Kidder, Yvonne Craig, Eartha Kitt, etc.

This book series is also dedicated, THE man himself who made all of my writing for this DC Comics based storyline (as well as the DCAU) possible: He will always be vengeance, he will also always be the night, and he always be THE true version and portrayal of Bruce Wayne / Batman himself in my (and so many other fans) eyes… the man, the myth, the legend himself… Kevin Conroy!

Thank you, Kevin, for the memories of so many people's (myself included) childhoods, adulthoods and overall geeky fandom!

With all that said, let's get on with the story… enjoy!

Chapter 1: An Unlikely Visitor

As the late afternoon died down and the moon began to rise at stately Wayne Manor, home to billionaire Bruce Wayne, the sole remaining survivor of the Wayne family, Bruce and his faithful butler, Alfred Pennyworth, got ready to set "the plan" in motion.

Earlier a few days ago, Bruce had found another cave filled to the brim with black bats, which ironically enough would soon turn out to be the symbol of how his life would change… forever.

Sadly, however, he had also got his engagement ring returned to him from his fiancée, Andrea Beaumont that same day. Replaying the message in the back of his mind, Wayne recalled them exactly as it was written:

Dear Bruce:

I left with dad to go to Europe,
he thinks that we're too young for marriage
and that we need time before we can settle down.

I don't know how long we'll be gone for, so it's
probably for the best that you move on
and forget about me.

Love,
Andrea.

* PAGE BREAK *

Before "the plan" could be set in motion, however, it was during that same evening that an unlikely visitor arrived at Wayne Manor.

Answering the door, Alfred spoke to the stranger, "Yes, may I help you?"

"I must speak to Bruce Wayne," said the newcomer, "it's uh… urgent."

"What name shall I say?" inquired the butler, who eyed the stranger with a raised eyebrow.

"Just tell him Jack Napier is here," was the newcomer's reply.

"Very well." Alfred turned his head and called out, "Master Bruce? There's a Mr. Napier is here to see you."

"I'll be right there, Alfred," answered the sole heir from off-screen.

Bruce entered the living room from his father's study — as far as he knew, he knew no Jack Napier. But little did he realize that he was in for quite a surprise.

"Who did you say was at the door, Alfred?" he asked.

It was upon gazing into the newcomer's face, Bruce's normal stoic demeanor changed to one of pure rage.

"You!" he bellowed, pointing a finger at Napier.

Pointing to himself, the latter asked rather sheepishly, "Me?"

"You were at the Beaumont's last night!" Bruce spat, nodding. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you get off my property," Jack started sweating and stammering to find an answer. "Or for that matter, have you turned over to the police! How did you find this place?"

It happened all so fast but, the member of the mob gulped and answered with a question.

"What do you know of the Ace Chemical Processing Plant, Mr. Wayne?"

Thinking back on it, but not letting his guard down, Bruce answered, "It's an old chemical plant that used to do business with my family years ago, they made all sorts of things needed to keep business thriving: toothpaste, mouth wash, the works. Why do you ask?"

"What if I told you there was gonna be a robbery planned for that place tonight?" Jack answered. "And, uh…"

"Let me guess," interrupted Bruce, "you were a part of said heist? Right?"

"Well, I was," replied Jack, who nodded, "But not entirely, I think is the right wording?"

"And just what do you mean by that?" asked Bruce, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, you see…" Jack began. "Can I come in?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow and looked at Jack, then at Alfred, then back at the unlikely visitor — Wayne then started rubbing his temples in frustration.

"This is most irregular, but if you must," He then let Jack inside and then turned to his butler, "Alfred, would you make a drink for Mr. Napier?"

"Will a cup of Earl Grey tea work for you, Mr. Napier?" asked Pennyworth.

"Actually, could you make it a sugar honey iced tea, Alfi?" asked Jack, as he sat down in an opposite chair not too far from Bruce.

Raising his own eyebrow, Alfred wasn't sure if Napier was serious, but it's quite clear he was.

"Very well, as you wish."

* PAGE BREAK *

After his butler left for the kitchen, Bruce got down to business, "Now, what's all this about you wanting to rob Ace Chemicals, Mr. Napier?"

"Originally," Jack began as he told his story, "I used to work there when I was younger as a lab assistant. But because I was a goofball, they laid me off." He paused. "I was exceedingly desperate for a job, I had lost so many in the past, so the mob picked me up and hired me as one of their own. And through this one big score, I was hoping to make a clean living."

"Clean living doesn't come from thievery, Jack," Bruce said in a very firm tone. "Or working for a bunch of hired guns for that matter, you know this."

"I know that now," Jack answered. "But anyway, I wasn't always this down on my luck, working for the mob, doing dirty deeds, and all that jazz."

Surprisingly, that caught Wayne off-guard.

"Oh, what were you before you joined the mob?" questioned Bruce, still skeptical.

The answer was on Jack's tongue as he let loose a hesitant gulp.

"I was…" he shrugged. "Nah, you'd only make fun of me."

"I promise you that I will not laugh," replied Bruce, who still held on to his suspicions.

Just then, Alfred entered with Jack's tea, "Your tea, Mr. Napier."

"Thanks, Alfi," said Jack, to which Alfred arched an eyebrow of his own. Taking a drink of his tea, Jack continued his story, "I was a comedian, just to make people laugh." Bruce raised an eyebrow as the mobster explained. "'Cause when they laugh, they feel good. And when they don't, well, you know. In a nutshell, being a comedian was not the best approach for me."

"So that's when you joined the mob?" inquired Bruce. "After both failing as a comedian and as a lab assistant?"

"More or less," nodded Jack. "At that same time, I had a wife who was pregnant." Tears filled his eyes. "But it was because of her death when she was testing a baby bottle heater. Which in turn, saw me deciding to join up fulltime with the mob in the hopes to start life anew."

* PAGE BREAK *

"But you didn't start life anew, and yet, here you are," cross examined Bruce. "A member of Gotham's seedy underbelly."

"Guilty as charged," Jack nodded rather meekly as he dried his tears.

"So then, why are you here?" asked Bruce. "Why not bring this up to the police? The D.A.? Or even Sergeant James Gordon? I'm sure that with the right due processes and everything, they could help give you the clean slate."

"Truth be told, the thought of that did cross my mind," Jack answered honestly, "but I couldn't go through with it. Whether you're aware of it or not, Bruce, — may I call you Bruce?" Bruce quietly nodded, "The walls have ears. In other words, not all of the cops in the GCPD are that clean, there are some cops that are dirty and probably work for the mob. Same thing with most politicians. And if they were to send out word that one of their own is trying to desert them, they'd rub me out."

"I see," Bruce said, stroking his chin in deep thought. "But that still doesn't answer my other question, just how did you know who I am and how did you find my property?"

Jack thought for a moment before answering.

"I knew who you were because you were dating that Beaumont girl for a while, and having researched your residence, I was able to get a hold of your whereabouts." He then made a sad frown, "I also read about your tragic… accident that happened years ago." Jack added, referring to the deaths of Bruce's parents, Dr. Thomas and Martha Wayne. "That, and Joe Chill, the man who killed your parents, was my mentor before I made my descent to changing my path."

He took another drink of his sugar honey iced tea.

"And did he want you to finish the job?" asked Bruce.

"Well, at first, yeah," answered Jack, clearing his throat. "But I couldn't do it."

"So then, if that's the case," Bruce went on, "why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"

"If I killed you then and there, I knew I'd be in hot water with the law," concluded Jack, "not to mention you'd have been my first kill."

"So, you've never killed before?" inquired a rather surprised Bruce, who lowered his defenses somewhat slightly.

"Yes, I have never taken a life… yet," answered Jack, shaking his head.

"And what were you hoping to accomplish before your wife's death, if anything?" Bruce asked.

"I was hoping to move to a more decent city and start a new life," replied Jack. "I may not look like it, but deep down, I am very bright. Something the mob frowns upon, intellect. Unless, of course, it's the head honcho pulling the strings. Which, as you'll have gathered, I am not."

"So, at some point had you considered looking into moving to Metropolis, Star City, Central City, Coast City?" Bruce wondered.

"I did indeed," Jack answered, "but as I said earlier, if the mob found out just how intelligent I was, or that I'd be looking to abandon them, I'd be kicked out of their ranks, or worse, killed."

* PAGE BREAK *

There was a long pause before Bruce spoke again, as the minutes flew by, Jack drank his tea. Gradually, Bruce found his voice after a long sigh.

"All right, here's what I'm gonna do, Jack…" The latter nodded, "I'll speak to Gordon on your behalf and pull some strings, and if the courts do agree to drop all the charges against you, you can stay here until after the due process happens. Only then and then, will I be able to help you get out of Gotham."

Sighing in relief, Jack beamed, "Oh, thank you, Bruce. You don't know what this means to me."

"And in the meantime," Bruce added, "I'll have security activated around the manor so your former friends don't come looking for you and try to kill you." He turned to Alfred, "Alfred, activate security code number 5-27-139."

"Right away, sir," said Alfred.

"If you have to ask, Jack," Bruce explained, "This will activate a weapons protocol security system to ensure your safety."

"Before you do that, can you at least let me get my suitcases?" asked Jack.

"I can get that for you, Mr. Napier." suggested Alfred.

"Oh no, I couldn't let you do that," said the mobster, "It's my own personal belongings, Alfi, I never let anyone touch it, except of course, me."

"Very well, Mr. Napier," answered Alfred, nodding. "Go right ahead."

* PAGE BREAK *

It took several moments for Jack to come back inside as his trunks were heavy, but he soon found his way back inside Wayne Manor.

"What do you have in there, Jack? Bricks?" asked Bruce, teasingly.

"Har-har, very funny, Bruce," retorted Jack, as he opened them up. Inside one trunk were several comedic gag items and the like, he also had clothes in the other.

Bruce looked at the clock on the mantle by the fireplace, it was 10:10 sharp, it was 37 minutes before it was time to set "the plan" in motion.

"Well, listen Jack," said Wayne, "I have somewhere to be in a few minutes, but if you need anything, Alfred will tend to your every need."

"Thanks," said Jack.

Upon getting a much closer look at Jack's comedic props trunk, Bruce spoke remembering something familiar about a few of the props

"Wait a minute…" he said stroking his chin. "Now that you've mentioned it and show your props, Jack. I think I may have seen you before at a performance once years ago. Didn't you once wear a navy blue suit or something thereof?"

"I did," Jack nodded, recalling that show himself. "But I'm not 100% sure." He screwed up his face to think. "Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes I remember it another." He then let out an involuntary chuckle as he said regarding his background, "If I'm going to have a past, I'd prefer it to be multiple choice."

"When did you have time to see that kind of stuff, sir?" Alfred inquired to his master, unsure about the situation himself. "I thought you were not particularly fond of comedies."

"You said it yourself, Alfred, I need to keep my horizons open, Alfred," answered Bruce. "I just happened to follow your suggestion one night when I was studying abroad."

"Fair enough," a relieved Alfred nodded.

"Before I go, Jack, I have a small request." Bruce requested.

"Name it, Bruce," wondered Jack, who began to ponder where the famous boy billionaire was going with his request.

"Would you mind telling a joke, just for old-time's sake?" asked Bruce, to which Jack raised an eyebrow. "Just to refresh my memory if that was indeed you all those nights ago."

"Okay, let me see, one of my jokes…" pondered Jack, as he took off his derby and started to think. It soon hit him, as he remembered one. "Oh, I think I got one."

"Very well, Jack, whenever you're ready," said Bruce.

"This should be most interesting." added Alfred to his master, who just silently nodded agreeing.

* PAGE BREAK *

With that said, Jack began to tell his joke to his newfound friends.

"There were two guys locked away in a lunatic asylum," he began, "and one night, one night they decided they didn't like living there anymore. They decide that they're going to escape the joint."

He paused to build up the moment, both Bruce and Alfred nodded, indicating they were listening.

"So they made it up to the roof, right then and there, just across the narrow gap, they saw rooftops stretching across town to their freedom." Jack went on after a brief pause. "Now, the first guy, he jumps right across with no problem. But his friend decided that there was no way for him to accomplish such a feat on his own, you see, he was afraid of falling."

Again, both Bruce and Alfred nodded.

"So, the first guy, he has an idea… He says, "Hey, I got this flashlight with me. I'll shine it across the gap between the buildings and you can walk across the beam and join me"."

Jack made a nervous frown as he finished his joke.

"But the second guy says, "What do you think I am, crazy? You'd just turn it off when I'm halfway across"!"

There was a long pause, Jack held his breath nervously — eventually, Bruce and Alfred started bursting into warm and genuine heartfelt laughter.

"Okay, that was actually pretty good, Jack," commented Bruce. "And I'm not just saying that. You're definitely as funny as I remember."

"Indeed, that was surprisingly deep." Alfred concurred with a smile and nod.

"Thanks, guys." Jack beamed back in relief to know that his joke had somehow or another left a few people laughing, as opposed to before when no one laughed at it.

"And incidentally, I'm sorry to hear about your wife…" Bruce added, speaking sympathetically, "What did you say her name was?"

"I didn't." replied Jack, thinking about the memories he made with her. "It was Jeannie." He then put hand on Bruce's shoulder, "And I'm sorry about you and Ms. Beaumont not working out, Bruce."

"Andrea." Bruce corrected, "But thanks, Jack." He looked at the clock, it was 10:30, time to work. "I'll see you when I get back."

"You too, Bruce. And thanks…" sighed a happy Jack, who was relieved to know that he finally had a friend, as well as hopefully, a fresh and beginning in life.

* PAGE BREAK *

Minutes later, in what would become christened as the Batcave, Bruce and Alfred were all alone as Bruce had donned an outfit: Grey tights, black combat boots, black briefs, black gloves with fins, a yellow utility belt and a black cape with cut edges to resemble bat wings, all with blue highlights, and in the center of the outfit, a black bat emblem.

Two minutes left to go, all that remained left was one thing… Bruce held out his hand.

"The cowl, Alfred."

The butler hesitated for a moment as he walked up, "But, sir, surely you can't expect to keep this charade a secret forever?" Alfred inquired, "Especially after you found a new acquaintance? What if he finds out?"

"The cowl!" Bruce yelled, repeating himself.

Alfred flinched and did as he was told and handed the cowl to Bruce, who gazed upon it for a brief moment.

Well, here it goes, Bruce said to himself

10:47 PM — the time of his parents murder, he put the bat ear shaped cowl on, it was a perfect fit. Alfred jumped scared stiff at the soulless white lenses gazing at him.

"Well, Alfred," Bruce said, deepening his voice, "how do I look?"

But all that Alfred could say was, "My God."

A while ago, Bruce had told him that the only problem with the criminals during his first night out had only one problem: it was the fact none of them were afraid of him, but now that the transformation was complete, things were going to get even more serious for Gotham's population of criminals.

Clearing his throat Alfred quickly regained his composure. "You look absolutely terrifying, sir."

"Good." Bruce commented. "And uh…" he cleared his throat, "Sorry about that earlier, I just wanted this to work, that's all."

"Of course, sir," nodded Alfred. "Apology accepted, Master Bruce."

"Well, I've got work to do. See to it that you cater to every one of Jack's requests." Bruce said as he hopped in his car.

"Will do, and good hunting, sir." Alfred nodded.

With that said, Bruce drove away.

Author's notes:

* So there we have it, Bruce getting to know Jack before the latter became the famous clown we all know and love.
* For those of you who have to ask, I drew inspiration on the opening story from the Batman: The Animated Series movie Batman: Mask of the Phantasm, you can see the hints with Andrea Beaumont being mentioned, Jack working for the mob, etc.
- Other hints of Batman related stories where I draw inspiration for this story come from The Killing Joke, best known for its story that shows what like life was like for The Joker before he was finally, in his own words 'finally driven off the deep end' and had that so called 'bad day' .
- I also drew on inspiration from the 1989 Batman film in the moment when Bruce asks for the cowl from Alfred, kinda similar to how The Joker asked for a mirror from his plastic surgeon.
* Bruce Wayne/Batman, Jack Napier and Alfred Pennyworth owned by DC Comics and is © by Bill Finger and Bob Kane.

Until the next chapter, my fellow readers and Bat-fans:
I'm M. R. Parkerson signing off…