This story takes place in a universe where batman has been left by almost all his companions. Essentially what we are introduced to is a defeated/depressed Bruce.
Tags: Mystery, Romance, Action, Supernatural
Warning: Mild themes of violence
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Chapter One: The Father
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"So far, you've been scheduled to attend this party for a minimum of two hours. It isn't anything difficult, you'll be asked questions by the press; give a speech on the ethics and production of Wayne Enterprises. Honestly sir, I can't see a possible way this could end badly for you. Before and after your speech, you'll be required to mingle with the guests of course. Who knows, maybe a nice woman can make you honest." Alfred said as he kept his sight on the road, focusing at all times while skilfully multitasking by creating small talk for Bruce who sat in the back of the pure black Roll-Royce. Receiving no response, Alfred looked to the rear-view mirror only to see his master sitting with his eyes set outside the window, clearly deep in thought. "Now I know my conversations can't be that good that you're taking some extra time to ponder about it. Since the age of seven you've been into the art of deception like Mozart to the harpsichord but you've never been too hot at ignoring or lying to me."
"What's on your mind?"
Without taking his sight of the distant cityscapes, Bruce merely rose a brow.
"For months now, the city's been quiet. It's as if every criminal in Gotham city has decided to take a break and literally vanish from the face of the earth." Alfred snorted a laugh. "Some would see that as a divine miracle. Every corner of the city is peaceful. Instead of worrying about gangs stealing purses, women only have the threat of prepubescent children playing in the streets. I don't see the problem."
"In all my years of living and quite rightly in all of your years, there has never been an instance like this. We live in Gotham city Alfred, Not the world of Haven where everything is peaceful and quiet like a place from a story book, something is definitely going on." Turning the wheel to the right then bringing the car into the drive way of the massive building where the event would take place, Alfred shook his head.
"Something tells me that this may have something with you not being the bat in quite some time. Don't kid yourself, you miss it."
Bruce would be silent, giving Alfred the indication to park. Once the car was put into a perfect placement in front of the red carpet, the two men sat silently in the car for a few moments. "Remember Bruce, a minimum of two hours, mingling and a speech. That's all you have to do. "
"Can you handle that?"
"Let's get this over with."
Nodding, Alfred exited the car and moved to open the back door exposing Bruce to the attack of camera's flashing and reporters being forced back by security.
"Smile and nod Alfred...smile and nod."
Eliza looked at herself in the mirror one last time on her way out the door, just to make sure the hour and a half of work she'd put into making herself look goddamned amazing hadn't gone to waste in the ten minutes since she'd last checked. It had been a while since she'd gone to one of these black tie affairs, and since she would be rubbing elbows with some of Gotham's finest tonight, she was determined not to seem out of place. It wasn't every day that she got the opportunity to interview arguably one of the biggest names in the city, Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises, and since his philanthropy and commitment to making Gotham a better place had once again made headlines, she was determined to get an interview, even if it meant crashing a high brow party, a friend of hers working the door had already promised to let her in regardless of whether or not she was on the guest list. Her dark brown hair was left down and long, but curled and pinned back away from her face. She wore contacts tonight instead of the glasses she usually wore, they were clear so as to show off her pretty amber- brown coloured eyes. Her makeup was minimalistic except for her dark red lips, tidy and elegant, but not overstated or over applied. She was wearing a slinky red dress with a black cardigan over top, and was wearing heels regrettably, though she'd put a set of flats in her purse in case she needed to change them out later in the evening. Satisfied that she looked as stunning as she got, she would leave the house with her purse on her shoulder before breezing out to her waiting vehicle, a small blue car which would take her into Gotham proper and towards a hopefully fruitful night. Sure, doing business and celebrity coverage like this was a bit fluffy for her tastes, but her readers wanted to know, and she had to admit, it would be interesting to meet the man behind the money.
Getting from the suburbs, where Eliza lived, and into Gotham proper wasn't that difficult. The streets had been unusually quiet as of late, so much so that she didn't even worry about the crime these days when heading into town. It was almost a shame really because it was making her job awfully boring, but in the spirit of humanity she supposed she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. No news was good news as they said, and Gotham had been through more then its fair share of hardships. Perhaps it was time the city was afforded a little peace and quiet, even if it meant journalists like her had to resort to doing puff pieces on local billionaires. Finding parking near the hotel that was housing this upscale party was slightly more difficult then she'd considered. While many had arrived in driven cars, many still had driven and parked leaving that portion of the street quite congested, made no better by the curious onlookers who pulled over to watch the guests arrive, wondering if they would see anyone truly famous. In the end she'd had to find a parking spot three blocks down the road. She once again cursed the fact that she was currently wearing the most uncomfortable shoes in the world as she parked her car and slipped out locking it up and hoping or the best as she headed off towards the hotel. Peaceful or not, this was still Gotham, without a street light to park under, she wondered if her car would still be there or not when she returned. There was no time to worry about that now though, as she neared the hotel she could see press camera lights flashing as a Rolls- Royce pulled up out front, a certain Mister Wayne himself stepping out to greet the lights with a professionally tuned smile in place on his handsome face. She cursed herself for running behind and awkwardly ran the rest of the distance in hopes of catching a picture before he got inside. She wasn't here for his picture of course, she hoped to get a chance to speak with him a little one on one, and of course listen to his speech as well, but a good shot of him making his way up the red carpet would certainly only add to the interest of the editorial for her subscribers. In the end she was able to grab one, and only one picture as he passed, before storing her camera back in her bag and taking a moment to right herself, making sure her slinky dress hadn't ridden up as she'd run, and that mot a single hair was out of place, before she approached the door herself. She purposefully went through her friend's line, who waved her right through with a conspiratorial smile, though Eliza hadn't qualified for a spot on the guest list. Just like that she was permitted to pass into the lobby which was decorated to the nines. Almost immediately she was handed a flute glass with expensive champagne in it which she took graciously as she smiled in awe at her surroundings. She'd been in this hotel many a time, but at night the city shone through the high arching windows magnificently, a glimmer of the harbour even peaking at them from the distance. The interior had been decked out with twinkling silver lights, and pictures in commemoration of all that The Wayne Family had done for the city over the years. Mostly of the man of the night himself, Bruce Wayne, but also of his deceased Parents who had started the legacy before him, though he'd carried the torch onward with nothing short of elegance.
Business owners and celebrities of all backgrounds threw themselves at the feet of the billionaire in attempts to break the social barrier that seemed so evidently alive within his conversations. Regardless, the night had gone smoothly so far. Everything was going as planned and even Bruce couldn't help but relax and loosen up a little when people started getting closer to him. While he didn't let just any woman dance beside him, he would continuously eye the exit in the hopes that some sort of saviour might burst through the doors and attempt a rescue. In times like this, a few of the Joker's roughed up henchmen wouldn't hurt. The party would quickly die down before the main speaker stood on the small stage fumbling with his finely made suit before bringing the microphone near his lips.
"Welcome you beautiful beautiful people!, In case you haven't already realised, You're in Gotham city with your host; Edward Brock! Now I don't want to stand up here all day and talk because just like you, I came for another reason; To celebrate the success of Wayne Enterprises in its fullest form now that it has become a global success, giving not only the Waynes a successful recognition but the rest of Gotham city too.
Because of this company, we have been able to show the world and our neighbours that Gotham isn't as bad as the media makes it out to be. We can be successful too." He paused to take a drink from the glass placed in front of him before looking back to the flash cards within his reach.
"Now without any further ado, I'd like to invite up to the stage...the man himself. Gotham's finest, Billionaire Bruce Anthony Wayne!"
The guests clapped and clapped until their hands began to feel sore.
Bruce had made his way up to the stage and gently took the microphone off the hands of the speaker then turned to face the large gathering of people, some of which had travelled literally thousands of miles just to hear him speak.
"My dear friends. I'd firstly like to take out the time to thank you all for coming. Some of you have travelled from distances as far as the east just to be here and help me celebrate this day of success. When I was eight, my father would speak to me of the importance of our family's mission in Gotham city. He didn't see it as a job or a way to increase his wealth Gotham was our home and like any child, we would do all in our power to make sure the city flourished in every possible way. It really was a funny statement. At that time, all I could think of was that he was talking nonsense and who could blame me? A boy of eight. I could barely understand the reason for homework let alone the fundamental aspects that built up a successful city.
When my parents passed away and the company fell onto my shoulders, only then did I fully understand the truth of my father's words. Wayne Enterprises was a part of Gotham just as much as Gotham was a part of us. It was my sole duty to take the city forward in every possible way I could. Now I may not be able to speak for everyone, and while I am aware that vigilantes and cloaked figures roam our streets; I'm glad to say that If my parents could see the way the company and the city ended up, They would sleep peacefully with an everlasting smile upon their faces. None of us in this room need to be cloaked vigilante to save the city.
A Hero can be anyone even a man doing something as simple as putting a coat around a little boy's shoulder to let him know that the world hasn't ended and good is still a possibility. Dreams save us. Dreams lift us up and transform us and on my soul, I swear that until my dream of a world where dignity, honour and justice becomes the reality we all share, I'll never stop fighting and pushing us forward."
"Ever."
The party was a much more splendid affair then what she was used to, it had only been recently that her business and Online newspaper had begun to take off, and though she had recently made herself a fairly comfortable amount of money, she certainly didn't have the kind of capitol that would have usually lended to her hobnobbing with Gotham's richest and most influential. The appetizers they were handing out were to die for, and the champagne even better, she had to remind herself to show some restraint because if she got even a little bit tipsy no force on earth was going to keep her steady on the tall black pumps she was currently wearing. She would make conversation with those she met, keeping an eye out for a moment to catch the man of the night alone, though an opportunity didn't present itself before his speech began, perhaps for the best she decided, he would surely have more focus after the fact, and since other, sanctioned reporters would be around asking questions about the speech, hopefully he would be more receptive. She flipped on her recorder as Edward Brock took the stage to introduce the man of the night. She wanted to be sure that she got every word that was said on tape so that she could play it over if she needed to when referencing it in the article. If the recording came out clearly enough she might even add it to the editorial itself for the benefit of her readers, who had just as much reason to praise the Wayne Family as the upper echelon did. The speech was pretty much what she expected, he'd always shown a loyalty to the family name and brand, as well as a commitment to the betterment of Gotham, a city desperately in need of a little betterment, and to his credit and that of the police force, and a certain masked vigilante things had recently turned around in recent months. She would turn the recording off when Bruce left the podium, moving over to the drink table in an effort to get to him before anyone else had a chance to. She had a fair number to contend with at people were trying to shake his hand or congratulate him as he made his way to the drink bar. Eliza was all about biding her time though, waiting for him to make his way through the crowd so she could ambush him with questions in his next quiet moment, in hopes that he might feel generous enough to allow her a short, impromptu interview. As he finally neared the bar she would try to catch his eye, and if she did, she would offer him a large friendly smile. "That was quite a speech Mr. Wayne. I'm sure your parents would be very proud.."
Running his mind over the thought, Bruce displayed a smile as he turned his sights to her. Knowing reporters, they'd do anything to find a scoop regardless of its positivity or negativity regarding the victim being interviewed. If this woman was of that type then it'd immediately be displayed in her next response whereas if she truly was a genuine woman and not another rich swank getting paid six figures to just interview a billionaire for twenty seconds.
Moving to the bar he would reach for an empty glass and stood as one of the cup holder's filled the glass with water. "I'm sure they would." he said, taking a small sip of water.
"I must ask you though, did you really ask because you cared or because you're being paid in the millions for every hour you're here? Hmm?"
His smile hid his thoughts, that was the first thought she had as she met Bruce Wayne's gaze, his poker face was so good that she couldn't tell what he was thinking, but one thing was certain, he thought more than his expression and his eyes let on. She met his gaze with interest and curiosity, it was a surprisingly genuine peek at the man himself she figured, that he even cared if she cared or was simply in it for the money. She grinned and shrugged one of her shoulders. "I live comfortably Mr. Wayne, but not that comfortably. If we're doing full disclosure here, I'm not technically on the guest list either. " Her voice as she spoke was accented, distinctly Canadian, and clearly from the maritimes. Is she was ashamed of having sneaked in, it didn't show. She certainly looked like she belonged, so no one had questioned her being there thus far. She offered him her most charming smile, if not slightly conspiratorial, in hopes that he wasn't going to simply have her tossed out for gate crashing. "I do care though. This is my home these days, just as it is yours. Gotham has come a long way, and many would argue you had a crucial part in that." Bigger then she could possibly imagine. "I was hoping you might have a couple of minutes to spare for a small local business..." She lifted her carefully manicured hand, offering it to shake. " I'm Eliza Crosse, with the Gotham Press." Her online news service was fairly well known in the last couple of years so perhaps he would be familiar with it.
Smiling, he took a few steps towards her, cutting off the distance between them while watching her facial expressions carefully; any slight action that suggested interest would most likely elate her heart.
"So you snuck in to do what exactly?" he asked coolly as he drank the rest of his icy water. "Better yet, you made your own personal judgement that it would be fine to tell the truth and while I'm sure you only did it as a form of conversation; the stakes were clearly not far from mind."
This event was held at such a high rank that even the police officials had been paid large sums of money to simply stand around the perimeter just to see the celebrities through. Any false members would be severely reprimanded regardless of their intentions.
He would give her a look of reassurance before placing a hand on her shoulder. "Go on then. Ask what you may." he said, taking her hand in his and shaking it gently.
Eliza's expression was careful, it didn't belay any emotion on it other than sincere friendliness and professional curiosity. It was hard not to feel intimidated or overwhelmed in his presence, as powerful a man as he was. But Eliza was handling it with ease. He was just another person, she had reminded herself many times in preparation of this, the dollar amount in his bank account didn't change that one bit. At his comment about her decision to tell the truth even though the stakes for that were fairly high, she didn't look even a little bit nervous as she smiled cheekily back at him. "I'm in the business of truth Mr. Wayne. Speaking the truth is what allows us to avoid secrets getting out on someone else's terms, don't you think?" She had no idea what secrets he held to be honest though the comment might certainly have been taken that way.
She reached into her bag and pulled out the recorder. "Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed Mr. Wayne. The readers of The Gotham Press are very interested in you. Many Gothamites claim you as a bit of a mascot or symbol of all that is great about Gotham. The Wayne name and it's generous contributions earning you a proud spot in their minds, hearts and families. Some are calling you the original son of Gotham City. What do you have to say about that?"
"Well, that truly depends on the perspective. In my experience I've come to realise that-" he would be cut off by the lights switching off systematically, plunging the room into absolute darkness. Nothing but the confusion and shouts of aristocratic wealthy folk complaining about the chances of their lavish outfits being ruined were heard around them until the sound of tear gas cans rolling on the floor was heard before shortly ripping open, releasing a stream of heavy lachrymator fog into the room. The lights would then turn on in sequential order displaying a small number of armed gunmen inside the room. While their dress style didn't give any indication of the faction they may have been following, their weapons didn't seem like your generic automatic short-burst rifle. The barrels all seemed to be covered with an advanced equipment that looked as though it could shoot a small substance such as gas out of each end. Shooting their bullets up into the ceiling the men spread themselves around each corner of the room. Two had been ordered to stand by the doors tying them shut as they guarded each exit with devotion.
One of the men, specifically wearing a red mask, made his way to the podium with his gun hanging comfortably down his side.
"Can we not act like you weren't expecting this? The one night in many years that the richest, wealthiest and most powerful in the whole world are gathered in the one room. I'd have been a fool to miss out on this opportunity." he said, taking the microphone from its stand.
"Now for those of you wondering, our reason for being here today, believe it or not isn't to harm any of you, no no, that's for later on, you see, with Gotham's criminal syndicates disappearing into the unknown, I have decided to step into the mix and bring in something that this city has never seen before..."
"The gates of hell!" he laughed.
"In short, I think it'd be fair for me to introduce myself before continuing, yes?"
He would raise his hand and point it to the left.
"If you'll look to my left, I'm sure you'll see a woman that is widely known through Gotham and the rest of the world... Mrs Lena Xung. Founder of Xung Industries; the company that you all know manufactures weapons for the Chinese military. The very same weapons that were used to kill our fellow American citizens in captivity."
Lena's mouth was bidden together by a cloth, preventing her from speaking as she was held back by three men.
"Judgement." The man said, before nodding to his men.
Within the blink of an eye, Lena's head became impaled with a curved sword. Her brain looking almost intact as it was sliced through her cortex.
Cries of horror and terror were heard as the guests watched in shock.
"Now now, come on! She killed our own people! You should all be cheering this on."
He then rose his right hand, gesturing for everyone to follow his gaze as he turned to the right. "On my right, we have the lovely Andrew Hedly; founder of the Resprey Medical School.
But hold on... you're more famous for something else aren't you?" the man said, tilting his head at Andrew who, like Lena, was bidden and held back by three men.
"Alright boys, pull out the cloth so he can talk."
They did as they were instructed and removed the cloth causing Andrew to grasp for air.
"Go on Andy... Tell them what you've done."
Swords placed directly by the man's neck, Andrew's fear was clearly seen.
"A-A few weeks ago I discovered..." he paused, clearly battling within himself to release the truth.
"Hmm? discovered what?"
"The cure for cancer."
The man laughed. "Hold on everyone, that's not the end of it." he said, holding up a finger of restraint. "Tell them why you didn't share the cure to the rest of the world." Letting the shame flow through him, Andrew looked around the room. "I wanted to keep the cure for myself and sell it off to billionaires for a ridiculous price while keeping it clear from public domain to maximise my wealth."
"Well there you have it."
"Little Andrew Hedly here decided to keep the cure to cancer for himself only to make more money so that he would be able to take Mrs Hedly around the world in a private jet. I think the truth speaks for itself."
He would nod once more, this time to the men on the right.
"Judgement."
With swift strikes, Andrew's body was cut in five different places, horrifically dismembering the man.
"Oops, I just realised I forgot to give you all my name! As you can tell, I'm clearly the leader of this group but I would like it if you all referred to me as 'The Father'. Yes yes, I know, how do you think the women feel when they shout my name out during sex? It's always a pleasure."
His eyes would scan the room until it landed upon Eliza and Bruce.
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