Well I was away for a very very VERY long time. Lets just say the last year has been one massive learning experience. I had to figure out who I was, where I was going, and who should be in my life. Not really worked out how I wanted but things have worked out for the better.
FIRST! NO ONE MOVE A MUSCLE OR LEAVE. If you don’t like me that’s cool but we all like my writing and the characters and you can at least enjoy it all, and I do enjoy each and everyone of you guys reading my stories.
SECOND! I will be picking this back up, I just have to come up with new stories to pump out. Don’t worry this shouldn’t take too long since I haven’t flexed my creative muscles in a while and they’re all backed up.
THIRD! other blogs of mine have been removed, not because I didn’t like them but because they’re a moot point in any form of idea or cannon. Sucks I know but there you have it.
any questions? Nope, awesome.
As he walked into the Gotham Police Department, Gordon could feel every pair of eyes on him. He had already been to the hospital, more to drain fluid from the swollen part of his face the held his eye shut, and now his eyes blazed with anger.
Loeb came from his office with a large smile on his face and intercepted Gordon quickly, “What happened, Gordon? Did you forget how bad it is out there?” He grinned slyly. Gordon stared the Commissioner down, his eyes flicked to Flask across the room then back to Loeb.
“You must be more careful, Gordon,” Loeb patronized, “I’m going to give you one task while you’re recovering. Don’t worry it’s not desk duty, in fact you’re already working on it.” Gordon knew where Loeb was heading with his words and kept his jaw clenched tightly.
Loeb gave Gordon a pat on the back, “So stick to the Batman case,” He began to speak quietly, “no more chasing down these crazies or any other type of investigations.”
Gordon finally saw Bullock near Flask. Bullock’s eyes darted to the ground; his face was long with shame and depression. Loeb leant in closely, “I have people watching you closely. I’ll know everything you do.”
It was in that moment that Gordon knew. He finally knew who set him up, who helped Flask. It finally became clear why Loeb assigned him to Gordon. Constable Harvey Bullock, his partner, had betrayed him. He grinded his teeth tightly as the anger swelled within him.
Flask seemed amused by the scene and followed Loeb into his office. Gordon was left as everyone that stared slowly went back to work. Bullock slinked into the hallway and out of sight.
Richard panted loudly as he dropped the rapier. The sweat dripped down his face. He couldn’t believe how tired he was, while Alfred looked almost at peace with the world. The older man wasn’t sweating at all, and still held a smile on his face. Where did this old man get so much energy?
“Very good, Richard,” Alfred lowered his blade and allowed Richard to collapse onto the ball room floor. He sat down next to the tired youth and continued to smile. Richard could only stare back. The stoic look on his face was slowly fading.
“You…” Richard breathed deeply, “…only toyed with me.”
“Impressive, it took Bruce a whole week to realize that.”
The words shocked Richard, and it must have shown on his face because Alfred smiled slyly as he continued, “That’s right. I taught Bruce how to fight with a sword. I taught Bruce a lot of thing. He was a lot like you, in need of some guidance after his parent’s death, and at a younger age too.”
Richard lowered his eyes to the ground. He had heard that Bruce’s parents died a long time ago, but no one really talked about it. In fact no one really talked much about Bruce. It made Richard all that more curious deep down inside.
Alfred gave Richard a pat on the back, “Alright I think it’s time to eat.”
As daylight streamed into the dusty mansion Richard ran down the stairs to the dining hall. As he passed the library he noticed it closed, possibly locked, does that mean Bruce was here or away? As he skirted into the room he had his answer.
At the end of a long, oak table was Alfred preparing two plats. He and Richard were alone. Deep inside his stomach he felt the heavy sensation he got every time Bruce wasn’t around, which brought out his sullen attitude in its full. With a stoic face he sat in front of the plate of food as Alfred sat on the adjacent seat. Alfred smiled in a warm, old man sort of way.
Richard’s first mystery he wanted to figure was Alfred. He maybe a generation older than Bruce, with graying hair and crinkled skin around his brow and eyes but Richard noticed something that not many people would be able to see. Alfred was physically fit in his gangly way. His shirts folded and stretched the same way many young acrobats’ clothing did… when they wore normal clothing… and yet Alfred never drew attention to his muscular prowess. Alfred was, much like the rest of Richard’s new world, shrouded in secrets.
“Bruce won’t be joining us, will he?” Richard stated more than asked.
The smile faded ever so slightly on Alfred, “as I know he has been held up lately in the library today Bruce has actually gone in to the office.”
“What office?” Richard had never heard this news before. He of course knew Bruce’s family owned a company of sorts but never really paid any attention to the stories.
“Maybe Bruce will take you there one day,” Alfred seemed to beam with giddy. Richard couldn’t help but find it cryptic, or at the very least sidestepping the question. The two ate in silence till the plates were cleared. As Alfred stood he smiled cheekily. The man of a million smiles was a name Richard had dubbed Alfred in his mind.
Alfred leaned in close as he removed Richard’s plate and talked quietly in his ear, “follow me.”
With a heavy sigh Richard did as he was instructed. Into the kitchen the two walked where Alfred placed the plates in a large and empty sink. Richard had heard of sinks, but was more accustomed to wash buckets. Alfred then signaled to Richard and the two exited through a second door.
Richard’s eyes widened at the sight of the ballroom. It had to have made up the most of the floor level of the mansion. Columns reaching up to a high ceiling that seemed to reach up into the second and third floors. The floor looked like polished marble, whether it was or not was impossible to figure out. Around the edge of the room was furniture and displays under large white sheets. Under one of these sheets Alfred slid his hands, and when he revealed them again he held two long rapier swords.
“Have you ever fenced before?” He asked politely.
“I know how to use a sword, if that is what you are asking,” Richard retorted impolitely.
“Ah, but properly?” Alfred said slyly as he threw one of the swords to Richard’s feet, “En guard.”
It was the wet slapping noise that brought him back to the world. It sounded so distant and yet so unbelievably close. After a few moments James Gordon had realized where the noise had come from and as he opened he saw the cool cobblestone and pooling blood.
He struggled to move. As he gasped for air he felt pain at the sides of his chest. As his eye closed slowly he found himself thinking the oddest thought.
Not of his wife or children, so far away from this dark city.
Not of the group of fit and trained men that had beaten him.
He thought to himself ‘Was the Batman watching? Not wanting to help or save me?’
As the world faded around him the thought shocked him. He stirred again. The Batman saving him? He slowly slid his arms underneath himself. That Batman saving him?! The thought made him sick to the stomach.
It took a while, but the thought burned in his mind and pushed him to move. Finally he stood tall. Battered and bruised but tall all the same. He sucked in the night air.
Richard walked the dark hallway from his room. He still struggled to sleep in his new bed and he had found creeping down the unlit halls of Wayne Manor calmed him… but only a little. It had been a few hours since he had eaten and the whole building seemed still as if waiting for something that would never happen.
He turned a corner, as he had done many nights before. Climbed down the main stairs like had done many nights before. Richard stopped. Tonight was different, and he blinked to adjust his eyes. At the bottom of the stairs was something he had never seen before. Not even in day time.
Light was streaming from the open library door. The library was never unlocked, let alone open. Bruce had never forbidden Richard from entering the library, but at the same time he had never been given an opportunity either.
He began to creep down the stairs when Alfred appeared. His silhouette blocked out most of the light.
“Master Grayson?” He called into the black, “There is no point hiding, son.”
Richard stepped off the stairs, they echoed on the foyer floor. Alfred’s lips curled into the gentle smile he always gave to him. Richard, in his short time, had come to know that smile well. It usually meant there was something he wasn’t allowed to see or know about.
“Is… Bruce in there?” Richard finally asked, his voice cracking from being quiet for so long.
Alfred looked over his shoulder, then turned back and smiled at Richard, “How about you and I go to the kitchen for something to drink.”
As Alfred moved Richard caught a glimpse. What he saw was what he assumed was a man, dressed in black, hunched over a large oak table. Deep down Richard knew that he wouldn’t be getting any answers tonight and allowed for Alfred to herd him to the kitchen in the back of the house. Tomorrow, he silently vowed that, he would uncover something.
Hey everyone. Thanks for the watchers that stuck around and welcome to my new watchers. I use to have 19 but because of the long hiatus I’ve lost a few people.
You could call what I’ve done up till now Season 1, and as we’re around the time I started these tumblr fics It’s about time season 2 to begin.
So a quick look back -
Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham after being missing since childhood, accompanied with an elder gentleman known as Alfred Pennyworth. Donning his new persona, the Batman, he aimed to investigate and gain revenge on those who murdered his family.
He began to uncover the truth that entwined Mr. Earle and Joe Chill, but through his family’s company he begins to form relationships with the people around him. Including Harvard ‘Harvey’ Dent Jr, the daughter of Judge Harvey Dent, who was sent to investigate Wayne Industries.
Meanwhile Inspector Gordon is made to investigate the urban myth known as the Batman, with the assistance of the younger constable Harvey Bullock. His investigates usually get side tracked by more immediate problems to the dismay of Commissioner Loeb.
Rogues have began to surface, including Zeus and the illustrious thief Catwoman. While the underworld seems to be controlled by the Roman Falcone, commiting atrocities including the murder of Richard Grayson’s parents.
After the events of the Scarecrow, Richard Grayson has been adopted by Bruce Wayne and now lives at the somewhat rundown Wayne Estate. Harvey Dent feels that Bruce is pulling away from her after the events at Haley Circus. Detective Inspector Flask has asked for Constable Bullock’s aid with dealing Gordon. Gordon’s investigation into the mystery of Falcone and the name ‘Black Mask’ continues.
And Harvey’s assistant is getting closer to convering to truth behind Wayne Industries.
Within the backdrop of a mix of 1800s/1920s/1930s world that is Batman Steampunk.
Richard felt awkward as the carriage moved passed the estate houses.
It had been two days since the nightmare had occurred. The doctors had given him a clean bill of health physically, and though they were worried about his mental state. They worried not because Doctor Crane had concocted a drug that creates intense hallucinations, and that had been dispersed in the air through things like candles, but because he had gone through two traumatic events so close together.
Inspector Gordon had assured the doctors that he knew someone that might be able to help with the healing. Now Richard was heading towards that someone.
Gordon sat opposite him, and smiled at the buildings that passed. Constable Bullock sat next to him and smiled reassuringly.
Richard noticed that the buildings disappeared and that they were surrounded by forest. The tree line seemed to reach on forever, but out the window Richard could see a building rising from the thick.
The carriage pulled up to the building.
Two men stood out the front. One was extremely fit looking and the other was an older man but very much as fit as the first. They were dressed very proper, like they were receiving a prince instead of a carnival child.
Gordon left the carriage first, talked a bit first to the younger of the two men. The man nodded in reply.
Richard stepped out, the gravel crunching under his shoes and then much louder was Bullock stepped out next to him. The two slowly walked to meet Gordon.
“Richard Grayson, I would like you to meet Mr. Bruce Wayne.”
Bruce extended his hand. Richard hesitated then took it in a light hand shake.
“I’ve seen you before, you were at the orphanage,” Richard spoke quietly.
Bruce nodded, “You were the one spying through the door, I take it,” He smiled, slipping his hands into his pockets, “I wanted to help you through this difficult time.”
Richard took a step back, “So did Doctor Crane,” he said spitefully.
Bruce nodded solemnly, “In that case I would like to invite you then.”
“Invite me to what?”
“To join our family, it’s small but…” Bruce stopped as Richard walked forward and nodded. A family sounded good.
It was late afternoon of the same day as Gordon finished his paperwork. Crane was to be sent to Arkham Asylum for evaluation. He stared at the office of Commissioner Loeb. The man was on the telephone to someone. Loeb locked eyes with Gordon through the glass of the door.
Bullock slowly walked up to Gordon’s desk with a smile on his face.
“Do like when things end well,” He said cheerfully, “Though are we sure Mr. Wayne is the best place for him?”
Gordon stood up, “If not we’ll bust down the doors and take the kid away again, but Wayne was the reason I ordered a raid in the first place. He was dosed with the same drug. Anyway I’m going home, take the victory and get some sleep big guy.”
Bullock nodded and smiled, watching his partner walk out. Gordon seemed happy for once.
“Bullock!” Loeb’s screaming broke Bullock of his thoughts, “Get in here.”
Without hesitation he went to the office. Detective-Inspector Flass stood in the corner, hidden from sight of the door. Loeb was on the telephone again and waved for the door to be closed. Bullock did so quietly… what was this about…
“Yes,” Loeb spoke into the phone, “I do know who is behind that, and yes do not worry sir.”
He placed the receiver onto the hooks of the candlestick phone, his face grew darker.
“Gentlemen we have a problem. Constable Bullock I believe some time ago Detective-Inspector Flass here explained permission has been given to a small group of police in order to… well clean house. Some officers are seemingly unfocused, and the reason for seeming unfocused is because they are leaking information to the criminal element.”
Bullock had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about what they were talking about.
“Flass has brought evidence to me personally that Inspector Gordon is one of these people and…”
“What evidence?!” Bullock interrupted.
Loeb was silent for a long time, his expression grew darker and darker, “Do not interrupt Constable Bullock… as I was saying, Gordon is one of these people and though we are undermanned and cannot afford loosing anyway he still needs to be put in his place,” Loeb nodded to Flass, who threw a wicked grin.
“Constable Bullock, I need you to help me and my associates,” Flass began, “all we intend to do is rough Gordon up, nothing serious I promise… or are you compromised as well?”
Bullock’s feeling in the pit of his stomach grew and grew… but he agreed to help….
NB - sorry for being away for such a long time. Been busy. Anyway I has returned. Also Dark Knight Rises started in less than a month! WOO!
Richard pushed through the images in his head. What was in the room? What did the scarecrow do to him? As the claw gripped he mustered as much strength as he could in his arm, and slammed his elbow backwards.
He wasn’t sure if he was moving slow… or if the scarecrow moved like a bird… but he felt a shock a pain run through his lower arm as his elbow hit a shelf. He cradled his arm, the misty haze of shadows and red light started to clear with the pain. He could make out the gangly figured standing over whoever was on the table.
“I guess the unexpected is to be expected in science,” The scarecrow cooed as he turned on the spot brandishing a small blade. Suddenly the scarecrow was growing taller, the small blade becoming bigger. Richard shook his head violently as he stumbled back against the shelves.
The scarecrow stood over him.
Long claws and knife shining with red.
The scarecrow paused.
Richard could see a shadow next to his head growing longer against the red light. Jars of different organs exploded very slowly as the shadow grew. It was reaching out, like a hand, and grasped the front of the scarecrow’s tattered shirt.
Time then sped up quick, Richard dropped to the ground as the scarecrow smashed with a might force into the shelves… through the shelves… into the tiles. The shadow grew tall over the scarecrow. Pointed horns, growing eyes, it sounded like it growled at the scarecrow.
The scarecrow laughed at the shadow, it sounded like a raven cawing, liquid dripping from its hat. The scarecrow lunge his knife with great speed but the shadow disappeared, moving like smoke to one side as the scarecrow’s arm found empty air. Then time stopped. The shadow wrapped around the knife hand and turned.
Time resumed as the scarecrow was lifted into the air and dived into a pool of shadows on the wall. The shadowy liquid splashed out like when Richard did cannon ball dives into a lake… The scarecrow was gone…
The shadow moved slowly to the table, then looked at Richard. He couldn’t stop his body from shaking and yet he couldn’t force himself to move. The person on the table began to scream loudly at the sight of the shadow.
The red began to fade in darkness as the shadow began its way to Richard. The shadows were going to consume him… that was the last thought that slipped into his mind before he faded away.
Gordon broke down the front door of the orphanage. The caretaker on duty rose to her feet in protest as patrolmen stormed in from behind Gordon. They made their way through every room. Children were roused from their slumber and caretakers on break were met with gun point.
“Sir!” One office called from down the hallway. As Gordon arrived he was met with a mix or different smells, none of which were pleasing to the sinuses. An officer carried out a young girl in a blanket, from what Gordon could see she looked as if she had been tortured.
Another officer was checking over an unconscious boy, a familiar face Gordon. Richard Grayson seemed to have the worst luck of any person.
“Is he alright?” Gordon asked in concern.
“Yes sir, just unconscious.”
“Get them both to a hospital, immediately,” Gordon ordered before noticing the police gathered at the far wall. As he got closer he saw what they were interested in. A man dressed in a scarecrow costume. Gordon pulled off the hat, followed by the mask and knelt down.
“Doctor Crane, nice to see you again,” Gordon smiled as Crane looked up at him with dead eyes, “Looks like someone put you through the ringer, aye?”
Crane smiled with no fear at all.
“Sir!” Another officer interrupted and handed him a folder, “This was in his office, notes on experiments conducted on the children.”
Crane’s smile faded as Gordon’s grew, “boys, you know what to do.”
Gordon stood across the street from the orphanage. His collar was popped to protect from the cold wind and he patiently waited. The fluttering of leather wings filled the air for a moment as he pulled a cigar from his coat.
Batman slipped into Crane’s office through the window. The room was dark and empty, even with the door opened a crack. The file cabinets sat in an alcove, but a couple of draws seemed ajar… like someone had closed them in a hurry. He looked over the desk, maybe there was a secret compartment, and ran his hands over various parts.
Eventually he felt it. The centre of the desk was raised slightly, less than quarter of an inch. He places his palm over the centre and pressed down. A click was heard and slowly it opened. Inside were a couple of brown folders with various papers within them. Batman slowly sifted through them. Some papers had detail reports, others had information on children. What caught his eye was the one that had symbols, random letters and drawings. Batman wasn’t sure what he was looking at in the drawings but he understood only a couple of the letters… H… N… and coupled with a few of the drawings… these were chemical notes….
There was a loud crashing noise from outside the room.
Bruce’s eyes flashed open. Disorientation had set it, he was on the road… no… it was soft… warm and comforting. The light was softer. His hands found his abdomen… and nothing. He closes his eyes and opened them again.
He rested in the large bed in his room, and when Alfred walked through the double doors at the far end he knew. He knew he was at the Wayne Manor. Alfred smiled as he checked Bruce’s pulse in silence.
“What happened?” Bruce asked as he forced himself to sit up.
“I was hoping you could tell me that,” Gordon retorted as he walked slowly into the bed room and chewed on a biscuit, “You came out of the orphanage then after a few steps collapsed and began screaming….” Gordon paused, “well it was more like growling.”
Bruce and Alfred exchanged an amused look.
Gordon, once satisfied Bruce was fine, excused himself. Alfred led Inspector Gordon out and when he returned Bruce was standing. Alfred sighed, shook his head and blocked Bruce’s path.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“It felt real, Gordon shot me… but the gun he held was…”
“A buried nightmare…”
Bruce nearly smiled, “more like… a fear…” Bruce’s voice trailed off for a moment and gave it some though. Neither Gordon nor himself touched anyone or anything… no abnormal pain that he could remember… maybe breathed in something… Alfred watched and Bruce’s brow knitted.
“Crane was a psychologist, working with traumatic cases for children…” Bruce murmured then he looked out the window. The sun had set and the soft light had faded, “I need to get back to the orphanage.”
Richard had been patient. With everyone thinking he was resting he waited. He had waited for the sun to set. He had waited for the lamps to be doused and the children to fall asleep. Something had happened to him, to other children, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
Before the most feared thing in the orphanage comes to claim him, and he disappeared too.
Richard stepped softly and left the sleeping quarters. There was only one caretaker to sneak pass, and enough shadows to creep in. Once again he waited outside Crane’s office. Once he was sure no one was inside he slipped in.
It was the first time Richard noticed that the office overlooked the garden. The scarecrow stood silent as its tattered cloths flapped in the harsh wind… He forced himself to focus on what he was looking for.
File cabinets lined the walls of an alcove. Richard had no real clue what he was looking for, and quickly figured how they were filed. Alphabetical wasn’t one, but was a sub-filing system… or that was how he was figuring it worked. He found the draw that held the adoption files. Now he had to find the name ‘Cathleen Meyers’. The girl who disappeared.
As he leafed through the files he realized something peculiar. Some had more papers than the others. He pulled one of the larger files, then one of the thinner files and compared. Richard had no clue what he was reading but he could take a guess. There were less of the larger files than the thinner… and when he found Cathleen’s files it was thin…
There was a creaking sound, and without hesitation Richard returned all the files and waited in the alcove for a moment. Slowly he stood up and walked to the door, he waited for another sound and once he was sure he opened it and slipped back out.
In the hallway he froze. There was a faint, but approaching, shadow. It seemed to stretch across the floor as if the shadow was crawling. He backed away, and quickly dove into another room as whatever was casting the shadow appeared.
From the crack of the door he could make it out.
There it was… impossible to be… the tattered cloth… the gangly arms… He silently clicked the door closed and turned around to rest for a moment. The room was dark but he could make it out. Jars of some sort, filled with objects floating in something.
Richard crept deeper inside. The first thing he noticed was the floor. As he moved between the shelves the floor changed from wood to a smoother surface… like marble or more likely tiles… at that moment he stopped.
In the darkness he could make out a table on the tiles.
He rose to his feet.
In the darkness he could make out beakers and other chemistry equipment lining the walls.
He took a step.
In the darkness he could make out something on the table.
His eye’s widened.
In the darkness he could hear it moan… her moan… in faded pain…
“Oh dear,” a voice cackled from the shadows, “It looks like my experiment maybe compromised…”
Richard stepped backwards, only to feel two claw-like hands grasp his shoulders. He looked over his shoulder… the scarecrow was staring back.
Richard opened his eyes and sat up. The room was dark but he was definitely back in the sleeping quarters. What just happened? He must have been dreaming but it felt too vivid. He also hoped that what he was drenched in was sweat.
He tried to remember… what was real… what wasn’t… he was eating and then… that, he believed, was the last real thing that had happened.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot…”
Richard got out of bed and walked over to the door. Opening it slightly he could see one of the caretakers was talking to a well to do man whom was escorted by one of the inspectors from his family’s murder.
“Is there a form I have to fill out?” the well-to-do man inquired.
“You do not understand. No one can apply to adopt a child till the child is cleared by Doctor Crane.”
Speaking of the devil Doctor Crane strode passed Richard’s view. He seemed tense.
“My ears are burning,” Crane cooed.
“Doctor Crane, this is Mr. Bruce Wayne and Inspector Gordon. Could you please explain how it all works?” With that the caretaker took her leave, quickly, not wanting to be around the two new men. Doctor Crane smiled apologetically, then gestured the way to his office.
Inspector Gordon rejected the offer and decided to wait outside, if anything to have a smoke. Mr. Wayne on the other hand walked on confidently. There was something about him, Richard thought, like he was hiding in plain sight.
Crane offered Bruce a chair while he went around his office. He lit a candle on his desk, collected a couple of files and sat down. The two men watched each other for a moment. Bruce sat calmly and tall. Crane sat hunched over his desk, but with a gentle smile on his face. Large glasses sat on Crane’s long nose with his gangly arms folded on the desk before him.
“What brings you to our orphanage today, Mr. Wayne?”
“I would like to adopt one your orphans,” Bruce said impatiently. He had been through these questions already.
“Well we do have a number of children available that…”
Bruce cut him off quickly, “I have someone specific in mind. One Richard Grayson.”
Crane became quiet and sat back in his chair, “I apologize but he is ineligible.”
“What do you mean ineligible?”
“Well you see, Mr. Wayne, this is no ordinary orphanage,” Crane began, “This is an orphanage for traumatic children, a place that they can be taken care of and able to adjust to a life with a future. Once they are old enough we even supply an occupation within the warehouses and mines of Gotham City.”
“So you have a monopoly on children?” Bruce said darkly.
Crane laughed at the sentiment, “That is an interesting way of looking at it. That does not mean any one of the children cannot be adopted, but unfortunately I have to give a clean bill of health.”
“And the boy is injured?”
“Physically he’s fine, but I’m a psychiatric doctor. Richard Grayson is, unfortunately, a very disturbed child. I cannot allow his adoption at this point in time, not to say you cannot wait for him if you wish.”
“I’m should not be at liberty to say but…” Crane thought about it for a moment, “His parent’s death has affected him greatly. So much that he keeps to himself, until today.”
“He did something?”
“He had a psychotic break. Without warning in the cafeteria, it was very tragic but we were eventually able to administer a sedative and he now rests in his bunk. So you see if I allowed you to adopt such a fragile child who knows what might happen. He may even hurt you.”
Bruce could see Crane wasn’t about to budge, but he sat trying to hide his amusement at the idea of anyone at the orphanage being able to hurt him. With that said and done Crane thanked Bruce for his time and directed him out of his office.
As Bruce walked the hallway he caught a glimpse of a set of eyes behind a door. Richard closed the door quickly and quietly and paused for a moment. Bruce smiled and continued outside.
Gordon was next to the carriage with a cigar in hard.
“So are you able to adopt him?”
“Doctor Crane isn’t going to allow it, but that isn’t the biggest problem. I think your office may want to investigate this place, seems like they hire children out as cheap labor and Doctor Crane can pick and choose who is allowed to stay or leave.”
“Sounds deceitful, but not illegal, unless you want to petition the City Council,” Gordon dropped his cigar and stamped it out, “But that isn’t the biggest problem, either.”
“What do you mean?”
There was a loud popping noise and Bruce looked down at his stomach. Blood began to appear through his clothing and the searing pain began to flood his mind. His eyes widened as he looked at Gordon, who held his smoking service revolver.
“I know I never said it, but I thought the gesture was enough. If I saw you I’d shoot you…” Gordon looked menacing as Bruce dropped to his knees, “…Batman.”