Life ended at age eight for Bruce Wayne. Sparks from a firing gun illuminated the dark alley. His mother’s pearls clattered against the pavement. Two bodies fell, and in a panic the mugger ran off empty-handed. He had left behind pearls, a gold watch, rolls of cash and a young boy; the world suddenly didn’t make sense to anymore.

    Blood soaked into the fabric of Bruce Wayne’s nice pants. The pants his mother had bought for him, ruined by her blood. The boy was kneeling. He hadn’t recalled sinking to his knees. Hands found his parents and grasped one hand from each. Tight as Bruce Wayne held, his parents left anyway, and alone he died.

    An animal’s shriek returned Bruce Wayne to life. He looked up and saw the shape, perched upside-down beneath a ledge at one corner of the alley. In one brief second that bat’s eyes met the boy’s, and they became one. Away the bat flew, perhaps to seek prey or merely to escape headlights that had suddenly gone past. Bruce Wayne remained in his spot, knelt in the blood of his parents, and vowed to bring sense back to the world.

    At the age of eight, Bruce Wayne died.

    At the age of eight, the Batman was born.

    Years passed. They had caught him, then, only a few short hours after the murders. Justice had won in the end, and in that regard Bruce Wayne was content. That it had happened at all, a man murdering two people in the street, was intolerable. Bruce Wayne had sworn that nobody else would suffer as he had, that he would rid Gotham City of the evil that took his parents.

    For fifteen years did Bruce Wayne travel, learning everything he could on all corners of the globe. How to fight was only a small piece of the knowledge he gained. Criminology, psychological profiling, economics, geology and chemistry, any field that could aid Bruce in his quest he sought to master. Fifteen years was not near enough time to learn everything he could, but physically he was ready to begin, and so Bruce Wayne returned home.

    Bruce Wayne had another reason for returning to Gotham City. Perched on the rooftop, in the new identity he’d made for himself, the Batman observed as a man walked off a bus. This was no common man, but a murderer, the thing that had taken everything from Bruce Wayne so long ago. When he’d been told of the murderer’s capture, Bruce had learned his name: Joe Chill.

    He certainly looked like a common man, this Joe Chill. Well into middle-age by now, a little shorter than average, but seemed taller by his thin build. Brownish hair was going gray and thinning. Joe Chill could have been any other man in Gotham, except for his eyes. They flit about wildly, as though expecting danger at any second.

    So much could be learned about a person through the name. The Batman knew that, before the night he’d murdered the Waynes, Joe Chill had been a common hood, one of many that served as hired muscle for the crime lords of Gotham. He’d helped to dispose of bodies, participated in large crimes masterminded by the more important, had knowledge of those he often worked for. Dead to rights on felony murder, Joe Chill had been shown the writing on the wall and eagerly gave up what he could in exchange for his life. His lawyer had been smart enough to see the value in Chill’s knowledge, and bargained a chance at freedom.

    Fifteen years for two dead in an alley, for all those who died because Doctor Thomas Wayne wasn’t there, for a young boy’s future ruined. Barely able to contain his rage and thirst for vengeance, the Batman waited. Soon Joe Chill would not be on the street in broad daylight. Soon it would be night, and Chill would find himself in one of Gotham City’s many alleyways. And then the Batman would strike.

    Perhaps, later, he’d deal with that bastard attorney as well.

    As predicted, Joe Chill later finds himself alone, running down an alley to reach the halfway house before curfew. He’s so worried and intent that Joe doesn’t notice the sound above, doesn’t stop and wonder as they do in the films and stories. Disappointed, the Batman forsakes the suspense and leaps from the building ledge. His dark shape lands in Joe Chill’s path, blocking the exit to the street.

    “Wha-?” Joe Chill gasps, out of breath. “Who are you? What is this?”

    Silent, the Batman stalks forward. His powerful arms grab Joe Chill by the shoulder’s and smashes him up against the wall. Feet dangling inches off the ground, Joe’s terrified eyes stared down into a hollow abyss that was the Batman’s gaze. Futilely he struggled, but the Batman’s grip held him fast, and Joe Chill was as helpless as his victims had been fifteen years ago.

    Breathing rapidly from exertion and fear, Joe Chill managed to get out a few words. “One of his, aren’t you? Go on, get it over with.”

    In response, the Batman threw Joe from the wall, sent him crashing to the floor. With the setting sun at his back, the Batman’s shadow loomed over a bruised and cowering Joe Chill. His obsession at last at his mercy, the Batman spoke with a voice like ground glass.

    “For what you’ve done…the lives you’ve ruined…you’re going to pay.”

    Struggling onto his hands and knees, Joe Chill couldn’t bring himself to look up at the Batman. Head down, terrified of what was to come, he gave a response.

    “Yeah. A lot of guys probably went to jail because of me. Come on then. Just do it.”

    Rage unlike anything else the Batman had ever known rose up inside him. All that he’s done, and Joe Chill’s guilt was over turning on other criminals! Viciously, the Batman brought up a leg and kicked Joe Chill hard in the face.

    “Murderer!”

    Taking Joe by the collar of his jacket, the Batman brought that bleeding face up close to his and practically screamed the word. Then he again slammed Joe up against the wall, so hard the man’s head bounced off the brick. The Batman turned rapidly and hurled Joe against the other wall. He fell from the wall onto the dirty pavement, shuddering and groaning with pain.

    The Batman towered over the broken man. His fists were clenched, prepared to do more damage. But Joe would still have the wrong idea, and more than anything the Batman wanted him to know why.

    “Fifteen years ago you killed two people.” Unclenched, the Batman’s hands went to his cowl. Slowly he peeled the fabric back, revealing the face of Bruce Wayne. “You destroyed my life.”

    Having been in solitude for fifteen years, Joe Chill had not read many magazines, nor watched much television. The face bore some resemblance to a person he may have briefly seen many years ago, but otherwise it meant nothing to him.

    “Who…who are you?”

    Though disgusted and enraged, Joe’s words gave the Batman pause. What was there to gain for beating this man, aside from personal satisfaction? He wouldn’t even know entirely what the beating was for, would in fact consider it punishment for something else entirely. The Batman, however, would know precisely what he’d done: beaten a helpless man half to death for something he’d already paid for. And whether or not the Batman thought of fifteen years as justice, what he was doing certainly didn’t qualify.

    As slowly as before, the Batman raised the cowl back over his face. “Somebody who will be watching you, waiting for the first mistake.” Then, as suddenly as he’d appeared, the Batman rose into the air and was gone.

    It took Joe Chill several minutes to reach his feet. So far as he was concerned, the message had been received, loud and clear. Stay out of the business in Gotham. Unsteadily he walked out of the alley, aware that he’d probably missed curfew, but hoped that the bruises would help the parole officer go easy on him.

    “Hey, Chill!”

    Joe turned to meet the hail of bullets that fired from the passing car. All the impact drove his body up against the wall, and silently his bloody form fell to the ground, dead.

    Perched on the nearby rooftop, the Batman had seen the car coming, had guessed at its purpose. In spite of what Joe Chill had done, the Batman didn’t have the right to kill him. But that didn’t mean he had to save Joe, either.

    Firing a grapnel line to another rooftop, the Batman swung in pursuit of the speeding vehicle. Murderers had to face justice.

    She lay so still, creating an almost perfect illusion of death. Julie Madison wasn’t dead, however. The Batman recognized the effects of an entranced individual; somebody overwhelmed by the power of hypnosis. Walking past the coffin, the Batman resumed his search for the man responsible for Julie’s condition.

    That man made no effort to hide himself. His face concealed under a long hood, the Mad Monk appeared on a balcony at the far end of the room. No expression could be seen, but his voice betrayed sinister intent.

    “You were given every chance. The woman is mine, and for interfering you will pay the ultimate price.” The Mad Monk raised his hand, and at this gesture dozens of the closed coffins around the Batman sprang open. “Minions! Slay this interloper!”

    The Batman whipped around and surveyed the situation. Pale vampires reached toward him, but there were feral werewolves coming at him as well. Since his previous encounter with such creatures however, the Batman had prepared himself. While moving to avoid one werewolf’s lunge, the Batman reached into his utility belt.

    The pungent stench of garlic filled the air. Vampires shrieked in pain, while the enhanced senses of the werewolves were nearly overwhelmed. No real damage would be done, however, and all the Batman really gained was time. Time to draw the pistols, and take aim.

    Not murder, really. Not if they’re already dead. And perhaps the Batman is a coward, in this instance. But at least he’ll be a live coward.

    Werewolves fell in agony as silver bullets fired from one gun pierced their bodies. The second gun was for the vampires, fired rounds of hard wood, propelled by gas so that they wouldn’t shatter. Careful aim was required to find the hearts, but the Batman was successful.

    Vampires fell into dust, while the werewolves simply fell into heaps of pain. All the wounds should have been fatal, but none of the werewolves seemed to die, as the Batman had suspected. One by one he approached each werewolf, and fired a wooden bullet into their hearts. Each exploded into dust, confirming that they had in fact been werewolf/vampire hybrids.

    “Blasphemer!” The Mad Monk had leapt from his balcony, and slammed into the Batman with tremendous force. “For this travesty you will become the first of my new minions!”

    “Uhnn.” Through the tackled and subsequent roll, the Batman had managed to hold onto the pistol that fired wood. Trapped underneath the Mad Monk, the Batman positioned his gun and pulled the trigger. “This ends.”

    The Mad Monk felt the wood enter his body, and pierce his heart. “Nooo!” was all he managed to yell before exploding into dust.

    Victorious, the Batman put his weapons away and moved to collect Julie Madison. Taking her up into his arms, the Batman carried Bruce Wayne’s fiancé out of the hellish den.

    Later, Bruce Wayne and Julie Madison sit alone on the hotel veranda, sipping wine. “Mmm, this is a very good year,” Bruce stated. Julie just nodded. “You haven’t said much, even when the doctor was examining you.”

    “Well,” Julie started, but Bruce Wayne continued.

    “I know he said you were fine, but when you return to Gotham you should see somebody there. Someone more qualified.”
Julie nodded. “We can ask the concierge about the next flight.”

    “Oh?” Bruce frowned. “Well, I suppose if you want to leave right away, that fine. I’ll be staying though, for the rest of this week’s parties.”

    “Of course, you and your parties.” Julie sighed. “Bruce, there’s something I have to say. And this is something I’ve been thinking about for a while, so don’t say it’s just this incident. I, I don’t want to marry you. In fact, I don’t think we should see each other, at all.”

    “Ummm, wow.” Bruce set his glass down. “Okay, well, I’m a little bummed. But I suppose if that’s how you feel.”

    “That’s it?” Anger was beginning to creep into Julie’s voice. “You’re not even going to ask why?”

    “If you want to tell me, fine.”

    “Your life is pointless,” Julie exclaimed. “Parties and booze and who knows what else while other people run a company that you ignore. And me, half the time I think you just see me as some status symbol for your lifestyle. What I want Bruce is somebody who actually cares about doing something with his life.”

    “Then I suppose you should find him.” Bruce picked up his glass and took a sip. “I’m sorry, Julie, but I’m a live-in-the-moment kind of guy.”

    In a huff, but not nearly so guilty as she’d felt a moment ago, Julie stood up and walked out. Bruce Wayne was left alone, on the veranda, enjoying the view and sipping his wine. Inside, the Batman knows that he did the right thing.

    In the middle of the large circus tent, the trapeze bar dangled, one of its lines cut. Spectators looked on, horrified, at that broken piece of equipment. But Bruce Wayne’s eyes were elsewhere. No, not the grisly scene in the center of the ring. None could bring themselves to focus on that. Bruce Wayne only had eyes for the young boy standing by the tent flap, who had just lost the two most important people in his life.

    Later, Bruce Wayne found himself compelled to walk towards the Haley Circus owner’s trailer. Police were already there, led by Commissioner James Gordon himself. Just outside the door, Bruce couldn’t help but hear the raised voices within.

    “I told you! It was an accident. Please, after what’s happened, nobody in this city will come to the show. We have to move on!”

    “The boy said you were arguing with somebody earlier, a person who threatened your performers. At the least, he’ll have to stay until we find this person.”

    “That might never happen! We’ll all the family he has left now. Where would he stay here in Gotham? Who would take care of him?”

    “The foster system, unfortunately. And if he can’t be placed with a family, it’ll be the orphanage. It’s the law.”

    Compelled to act before any discussion could take place about the future of Dick Grayson – not “the boy” – Bruce Wayne stepped up and opened the door. Inside was Mr. Haley behind a desk, with two police officers and Commissioner Gordon on the other side.

    “Gentlemen, I’d like to help.”

    Later still, and Bruce Wayne was seated in the back of his limousine with a ten-year old Dick Grayson. As he’d been for the past week-and-a-half, the young boy was sullen, withdrawn. So much like he’d been at that age, Bruce Wayne remembered. Awkward, he struggled to make conversation.

    ”The headmistress told me you’ve broken a record. Nobody has ever managed to get expelled so quickly.”

    “It’s a stupid rule. I wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Bruce Wayne believed that. Dick Grayson was an accomplished acrobat, and cart wheeling the ledges outside the academy would have been almost second nature to him.

    “And if somebody got hurt trying to copy you? An example had to be made. I’m sorry but that’s how it is.”

    Silence for half a minute, then Dick said, “I’ve missed the applause.”

    By this time, Alfred had pulled up in front of the house. As Bruce was exiting the vehicle, he looked Alfred in the eye, gave a little nod. The faithful butler gave a disappointed, warning look, but was silent. Bruce turned and offered his hand to Dick. “Come with me. There is something I’d like to show you.”

    That something was the cave, and inside Dick Grayson found himself standing before the Batman’s suit. “So you’re, you’re him? The Batman?”

    Bruce couldn’t help but smile. “I wasn’t aware there was more than one. But yes, I am. And I have another surprise for you.”

    “There’s more?”

    Next to the suit was a covered display. Bruce removed the covering, unveiling a second suit, smaller than the first, and with different colors. Red, green and yellow, with an ‘R’ insignia on the chest. Excitedly, Dick Grayson approached the suit.

    “This is, this is for me? And this,” he pointed to the insignia. “Is it for…?”

    “The Adventures of Robin Hood, yes. I noticed that was your favorite movie. Tomorrow we’ll start training, but I trust your skills enough for an outing tonight.”

    “Cool! We’re going to catch bad guys?”

    Bruce nodded. “Yes. One in particular.” From inside his jacket, Bruce took out a file. “I’ve been doing some investigating on my own and, well, have you ever seen this man before.” The folder opened, and one top was a photograph. Dick Grayson’s intake of breath was all Bruce needed, and he closed the folder. “His name is Anthony Zucco, and tonight we’re going to bring him to justice.”

    Two figures journeyed that night. The Caped Crusader and his Boy Wonder, a Dynamic Duo that stalked the criminals of Gotham City. One criminal in particular, who even then was running from their wrath.

    Robin threw the bola with a first-time precision that greatly impressed the Batman. It wrapped around Zucco’s legs, causing the overweight racketeer to crash onto the pavement. The Batman and Robin approached his fallen form to hear the sounds of a fat man wheezing. But a closer look revealed it was something far worse.

    Robin rushed to the man. “What’s happening?” he asked the Batman. “Why is he shaking and changing color like this?”
“He must be having a heart attack,” stated the Batman without emotion.

    Robin gazed up at the man, questioning, but the Batman gave no other words. So the boy turned back to Zucco, pushed at the large form until the man was flat on his back.

    “Chest compressions, right? Isn’t that…we have to help him!”

    “He murdered your parents.” The Batman held up a flask of liquid. “This was in his hideout. The same sort of acid used at the circus.”

    The young Robin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So, so we’re just going to kill him!”

    “I don’t kill. But I don’t have to save either.” And then the Batman turned away from the dying murderer. He started walking away, but something held him back. It was Robin, gripping his cape.

    “He’s dying because of us,” Robin told him.

    “His bad health isn’t our fault,” the Batman responded. He shook off Robin’s grip, and started away.

    But the Boy Wonder didn’t follow after the Caped Crusader. He went back to the form of Anthony Zucco, murderer of his parents, and stayed with him until a police car arrived, almost half-an-hour later. The Batman was waiting on a nearby rooftop, and when the police arrived Robin went to join him.

    “You didn’t even call an ambulance.”

    “You really think he deserved one?”

    For a brief moment, Robin didn’t say anything. When he did, it wasn’t necessarily in response to the question.

    “There was a man at the circus, a handler who was mistreating some of the animals. My dad didn’t like it, even confronted the guy a couple of times. Eventually, one of the tigers got at the man. My dad didn’t have to, but he pulled the man clear of the cage, and helped slow the blood until the ambulance arrived.” Robin looked up at the Batman. “What would your dad have done?”

    “The same thing.” Quiet, then the Batman added, “Once he even saved the life of a known criminal who’d been shot in the chest.”

    Robin looked away from the Batman, to the scene of Zucco’s body being carried away. “I’m sorry, but I think I’d rather be like my dad than like you.”

    The Batman also watched the scene. “Then maybe it’s time I change.”

    Two figures returned to the cave that night. Both were different from the two that had left earlier.

    “Hahahahahahahahaha!”

    The bullet was grinding against a rib, and it was taking everything in the Batman not to pass out from the pain. Although the sight of Joker standing over him with kitchen knives made the Batman not want to be conscious. If anything that sight of the maniacal grin was worse than the knives. It gave away Joker’s intent, and that he would so clearly enjoy what he was about to do.

    “Tut tut,” Joker stated after looking at the nearby clock. “Either that’s stopped or you’re dead.”

    “Make it both,” said the Batman. “Spare me the butchered Groucho quotes.”

    That grin somehow got wider. “Simply warming up for the main course. Which is you, did I forget to mention?” Menacingly, the Joker inched closer. “Feel free to scream. I love feedback that can be taken either way.”

    She appeared out of nowhere, tackling the Joker and knocking his knives across the floor. But Selina Kyle couldn’t match the rail-thin Joker’s bizarre strength, and he sent her across the room with a backhand. Angered but still smiling, the Joker rose to his feet and faced the Catwoman.

    “Why didn’t you scram, Puss’n Boots? Suddenly decide I had a mouse with wings and you want to gobble him all to yourself.” Joker leaned down over the dazed Selina, positioning the flower on his lapel just right. “Wanna know why flowers scare me at my age?”

    But the Batman had been given the time he needed, enough to stand on his own feet. A two-fisted hammerblow struck the side of Joker’s head, knocking him to the ground and away from Selina. The Clown Prince of Crime shook his head, dazed, and managed to get onto his hands and knees.

    “If you won’t laugh, at least fetch me a child of five.”

    A kick to the face from the Batman managed to shut Joker up. He fell unconscious, and after securing him the Batman turned to face the rising Selina.

    “Why did you come back?”

    Selina was rubbing her head. “Must have been something the Joker just knocked out of me. There I was leaving with the jewelry, free-and-clear. It only would have been the first of many too, once you were out of the way.”

    “So why?”

    Catwoman gazed up into the Batman’s eyes, and gave her answer. “Maybe it was because, even though I wasn’t doing the actual deed, the Joker got you in this trap because I lured you in, and I’m not a killer. Or maybe because there wasn’t any thrill in this job, and with you gone I wouldn’t have a thrill ever again. Or maybe, just maybe, I want to stop doing this and settle down with a good man, and I think he’s standing right in front of me.”

    Without a word, the Batman took Catwoman’s face in his hands and kissed her. And just like that she had her answer.

    “Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

    Selina Kyle was screaming in pain, her legs up in the air and on display for all the world to see. At that moment, all the world consisted of a doctor and two nurses, one of whom was moving towards the door. On the other side, a young man of about seventeen was pacing frantically, and he turned eagerly when the door opened.

    “How is she doing?”

    “Your mother is doing just fine,” answered the nurse. “Right now, she’s fully dilated and we’re ready to push.”

    Given the situation, Dick Grayson didn’t think to correct the nurse about Selina being his mother. At that moment, he just wondered where Bruce Wayne was, and was tremendously relieved to see Bruce rushing down the corridor. He was still struggling to put on hospital scrubs. “Bruce! It’s happening!”

    Panting, Bruce stopped in front of the nurse. Frantically, he spoke, while finishing with the scrubs. “I’m the husband to be. Father!” He said quickly. “Father-to-be. That’s my wife in there.”

    “Well then, I’m sure she’d like you to be inside with her.” The nurse opened the door, and Bruce Wayne walked into his wife’s screaming.

    “Bastard!” Selina yelled. “You did this to me!”

    “Hi sweetheart,” greeted Bruce. “I’m here for you.”

    “Get away from me!”

    “Okay, Mrs. Wayne,” the doctor was instructing. “I’m going to need you to push when I give the word.”

    “I can’t,” pants Selina. She tilts her head to look at Bruce. “This is too much. I can’t do it.”

    “You’re the strongest woman I know, Selina,” Bruce assured her. “You can do this.”

    “Okay, now!”

    “Uhhnnnggggnnnnnnnaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!” Selina pushed with everything she had, attempting to breathe all the while but nearly overwhelmed by the pain. “Aahh. Hnn. Hnn.”

    “Very good Selina. I can see the head. Just give me one more.”

    Bruce looked down at his wife, and clutched her hand tightly. “You can do this honey.”

    “Big push, Selina. Now!”

    “Hhnnnggghhhhhnnnngggaaaahhhh!”

    “Waaahhhh!”

    The screams of Selina’s pain were intermingled with those of her child’s, as the doctor jubilantly gave the thumb’s up. “It’s a girl!”

    No longer required to exert herself, Selina was allowed to relax. Bathed in sweat, she was relieved that it was finally over. But most of all, she was overjoyed to hear the sound of her daughter alive.

    Swaddled in cloth, the tiny little baby girl was presented to Selina, who slowly took it into her arms. “Ohh. Oh, hi.” Looking up a Bruce, then back to her baby, Selina said, “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

    “So we’re going with the name?” Earlier, they had agreed on names for whether the baby was a boy or a girl. “This is the face that can launch a thousand ships?”

    Tears in her eyes, Selina nodded. “Yes, yes she is.” Bending her head forward, Selina tenderly kissed her newborn daughter on the forward. “Welcome to the world, Helena.”

    It was a rare occasion nowadays for Bruce Wayne to enjoy the evening with his young ward Dick Grayson. Ever since the young man had gone on to college, and then law school, their time together had considerably shortened. But with Spring Break had come Dick Grayson, and the two friends sat in Bruce Wayne’s study to catch up.

    “How is Helena doing?” Dick asked.

    “More perfect with each passing day,” beamed Bruce. “On the one hand, I couldn’t be proud to have a more beautiful daughter. But on the other, I know I’ll have to put on the suit in order to frighten her future boyfriends into obedience.”

    Dick laughed heartily at that. “Yeah, I suppose millionaire playboy wouldn’t be too intimidating in that regard. Selina took her out?”

    Bruce nodded. “Yes, to visit her sister. That’s something else I’ve considered, locking Helena up in a nunnery.”

    “You’ll do a fine job, Bruce. Whatever you do. After all, I turned out okay.”

    At those words, Bruce raised a glass to his old friend. “That you have, Dick. I couldn’t be more proud of the man you’ve become. Even with Selina and Helena in my life, I haven’t been able to keep the suit locked away. But you, you’ve managed to leave that life behind, and I envy that.”

    “Yes well,” Dick leaned forward. “That’s kind of why I’m hear Bruce. You’ve heard that the circus is in town?”

    Bruce did know this, and nodded. “Yes, the Hill Circus, now that Haley sold it.”

    “Well, I still have friends there, and one in particular looked me up. Trina was the only other person my age at the circus, practically idolized my parents. If things had turned out differently, she and I might have been the next Flying Graysons.”

    “I’m glad you made contact with her again,” said Bruce sincerely.

    “She met somebody, another aerialist named Joseph Todd. Together with a son of their own, they’re the Flying Todds. Anyway, she told me about somebody bothering the circus owner, making threats, extorting money. She’s afraid that what happened to my parents is going to happen again.”

    Bruce set his glass down and stood up. “Say no more, Dick. I’ll suit up and look into this immediately.”

    Dick also stood up, and shook Bruce’s hand in thanks. “I would appreciate it if you would let me tag along, Bruce. I haven’t worn the costume in a while but I’ve been keeping in practice. I won’t have any trouble keeping up.”

    “Especially not with my aged physique,” Bruce said with a grin. “Of course you can come along, Dick. I don’t see what could possibly go wrong.”

    Oh, what prophetic words. And in a sense, nothing went wrong because of Robin. If anything, he should have gotten there sooner. Should have guessed that the extortionists would have noticed Trina and Joseph Todd snooping around, and that he would have moved to shut them up.

    None of these thoughts of regret were racing through Robin’s mind at that moment, however. All he felt, when confronted with the sight of Trina and Joseph’s bodies, was a deep rage. Robin suspected that his mentor, the Batman, had once felt much the same way, and after so many years he finally understood what he meant to not care if a murderer lived or died.

    “You animal!” screamed Robin as he leapt at the villainous Killer Croc, a villain who recently had aptly lived up to his name.

    Though physically not as strong, Robin attacked with a ferocity that drove the much larger criminal back. Robin connected with a powerful right that Killer Croc actually felt. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done!”

    Again Robin struck, a powerful kick to Killer Croc’s face that drove the villain through a trailer window and out into the open. Robin dove after him, and when Killer Croc tried to grab him rolled, using his own momentum to break Killer Croc’s grip and deliver another vicious kick to the face.

    “Rraargh!” Driven almost to the brink of his humanity the murders and subsequent attack, Killer Croc mindlessly attack. Powerful arms lunged at Robin, but the much faster man dodged easily. Worse, Killer Croc wasn’t fast enough to avoid Robin’s counterattack, the slice of a batarang that managed to cut through even his thick hide. “Aaaiiiiee!”

    “Keep screaming, monster.” Again Robin sliced, causing thick red blood to shoot through the air. A kick to the knee sent Killer Croc to the ground, and faster than lighting Robin was on him, punching the criminal repeatedly in the face. “You deserve all the pain you get! You deserve to die!”

    Suddenly, Robin made himself stop. His gloves had been torn to shreds, and now his knuckles were bleeding. That wasn’t anything like Killer Croc’s face, however; a pulp of bloody flesh that barely resembled a human being. Somehow, he was still alive, a fact for which Robin was grateful.

    Slowly, the former Boy Wonder forced himself off of the beaten Killer Croc. He turned to look at the Batman, who had been watching silently the entire time. “We should call an ambulance,” Robin said, and the Batman nodded agreement.

    A short distance away, Robin saw a young boy rushing forward. A bore a small resemblance to Trina, and Dick knew then that it was Jason Todd, the murdered couple’s young son. Moving into Jason’s way, Robin reached out his arms and stopped him from taking one more step towards the macabre scene.

    “Let me go!” Jason yelled. “Mom! Dad!” He struggled against Robin’s grip, and beat his smaller fists against the man’s body.

    “Let me go! I have to help them! Mom! Why aren’t you helping them?”

    “I’m sorry,” Dick Grayson whispered tearfully into Jason Todd’s ear. “I’m so sorry.”

    Too tired to struggle anymore, too tired to deny what had just happened, Jason Todd burst into sobs. In Robin’s arms, he cried for his dead parents, and Robin cried with him.

    Having used up his own tears long ago, the Batman only watched.

    “Congratulations, Helena dear.”

    “Thank you,” said Helena to what must have been the fifth person she didn’t know. That was the thing about being a Wayne: parties were attended by much more than friends and family. Moving politely away from the well-wisher, Helena saw and moved in the direction of one of the people she did know. This man fell into the category of family.

    Richard Grayson greeted Helena Wayne with a warm hug. “Everybody’s very proud of you Helena. How does it feel, to be a lawyer?”

    “I’ll tell you once I’ve got a job and argued before a judge,” Helena laughed in a manner similar to her father. She had all the best features of her parents, Richard noted, and he knew they had her on a training regimen comparable to what he went through.

    “Maybe now that I’ve finished law school I’ll get started on medical school. Dad did want me to be well-rounded.” Not even aware of it, Helena was being prepared, just in case.

    “Or, if you’d rather use the degree you have now,” Richard said to her, “Cranston and I are always looking for new talent. Top of your class, highest score ever on the Gotham Bar Exam, the only question is how soon your name would join ours on the letterhead.”

    “Not if I finally do what all the tabloids have been clamoring for and spend one night as a crazed, drunken hussy.” Before he’d met Helena’s mother, Bruce Wayne had been a notorious playboy, and there had always been those eager to pass the title on to Helena. “How’s Jason? Is he here?” Helena had been busy for so long that this was actually the first time she’d seen Richard in a while, and she was eager to see his young ward too.

    “No, I’m afraid not. Jason broke his arm just the other day, doing wild things with friends of his. End of school celebrations, you know how it is.” Actually it had been a rap on the arm by Penguin’s umbrella, but Richard wasn’t about to tell Helena who the new Batman and Robin were.

    “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Helena turned her head from Richard. Something had caught her eye, a flash of movement that looked like her mother, rushing out of the party. “Later this week I’ll stop by, wish him well.”

    “Yeah, he’d like that.”

    Helena politely broke away from Richard, moving in the direction her mother Selina had gone. But other guests got in her way, and while Helena tried to get past them as politely as she could, it was still some minutes before she could reach the door. Off at the other end of the hallway, she saw her mother hanging up the phone, and move forward.

    “Mom, what’s wrong? Who was that?”

    “Oh, nobody,” Selina said. But her face betrayed the lie, that something was indeed wrong. Helena opened her mouth to press harder, but Selina gave her daughter a warm smile and, pressing hands to her shoulders, led Helena back toward the party. “Come on, dear. This is your night. Anything else can wait until morning.”

    The worry for her mother, as well as her own excitement from passing the bar, didn’t help Helena at all when it came time to sleep, later that night. And just when she felt she was about to go under, Helena awoke to footsteps and hushed voices. Her parents, Helena realized, and silently rising out of bed she crept to the door and listened.

    “-can just sue him,” urged Selina in worried tones. “He has no real evidence.”

    “Back in jail his words will carry even less weight,” Bruce responded. “Bad enough if he was threatening you with the past, Selina. Catwoman never murdered. This is your chance to clear your old name.”

    Helena’s brow furrowed at the words. What was a ‘Catwoman’, and what connection did her mother have with it?

    “Oh, don’t give me that, Bruce.” Though she was clearly trying to keep her voice low, Selina was growing heated. “Any excuse for you to get back into costume, and after Dick’s taken it with your blessing.”

    Dick Grayson? Helena wondered if that was whom her mother had referred to. And if so, what had he taken with Bruce’s blessing? Until Helena, there hadn’t been a Wayne involved with the law since Judge Wayne. Could it have referred to Dick adopting Jason Todd, much as Bruce had adopted Dick so long ago?

    But the response Bruce gave didn’t indicate any of that. “The masks aren’t just to protect us, Selina. There is no reason for Helena to be exposed to any of this. If we can solve the situation as Batman and Catwoman, nothing will be jeopardized.”

    That caused Helena to raise her eyebrows. Did her father, Bruce Wayne, just say that was secretly Batman? The Batman.

    “A-all right.” Apparently mention of her daughter prompted Selina to reconsider the matter. “Just this one last time.”

    More sounds of movement, ended with Helena hearing a door close downstairs. Cautiously, Helena opened the door to her room and stepped out. Somehow, her parents were crime-fighters, and were apparently going out to handle something unfinished from those days. Helena wracked her mind for everything she knew about the Batman’s history. Joker, Scarecrow, Two-Face, Penguin and countless others, any one of whom her parents could be going out to confront that very night. In their advanced years, were they really up to it?

    Some parts of Wayne Manor were more museum than home. Whole rooms were dedicated to relics for ages past, including armor and arms. Her father had insisted that Helena learn what seemed to be every weapon imaginable. She’d tried her best to do so, and without her father’s knowledge had even gone to the shooting range a few times. Though a crack shot, there weren’t any firearms in the mansion, so Helena would have to make due with the next best thing. Moving quietly, in case her parents hadn’t yet left and might hear, Helena approached the glass case of crossbows.

    Later, Helena would see that her parents weren’t off to meet a big villain. Silky Cernak had been a henchman most of his life, several times in the employ of Catwoman. Insider knowledge, lucky guesses and a need for money had led to Silky on rooftop the against the Batman and Catwoman.

    In Silky’s hand was a gun. In his head was fear. This was a dangerous combination that resulted in wild gunfire. Bullets whizzed erratically past the Batman and Catwoman. They moved to avoid being hit, but older reflexes are slower reflexes. Grazes do little damage to kevlar, but impact can still hurt.

    Close to the roof’s edge, Catwoman was grazed and balance was lost. Though she struggled to regain footing, Catwoman fell from the rooftop.

    “NO!” The Batman sprinted toward her, reaching, but too distant and too late.

    From a nearby rooftop, a crossbow fired. A solid steel bolt fired through the air, became imbedded in the masonry of a tall building. Strapping a line from the bolt to her belt, a masked woman swung from the rooftop.

    Catwoman slammed into an arm at her mid-section. She was caught up in the newcomer’s swing, her descent slowed and carried a brief distance. Then the woman in the large domino mask let go of Catwoman mere feet over a rooftop, but not before saying, “Hi mom.”

    That was how Selina Kyle found out that her daughter Helena had just saved her life.

    The Batman was in no position to see any of this. He was in action, rushing at Silky Cernak. “Stay back!” cried the thug. Before he could pull the trigger again, the Batman grabbed Silky’s wrist and bashed his fist hard into the former henchman’s face.

    The gun fell from limp fingers. Teeth went flying from Silky’s bloody mouth, and he struggled to speak through an unhinged jaw. The Batman took no notice of the garbled pleas, and kicked up into Silky’s face. His nose broke with a sickening crunch. The spray of blood nearly hit Helena Wayne as she landed onto the roof.

    “Please stop,” she pleaded to the Batman, her father. “She’s alive, and fine.” It was killing Helena not to use her father and mother’s names. “You can stop now.”

    Indeed, the Batman could stop. Silky was unconscious, hung limp from the wrist in the Batman’s grasp. Reluctantly, the Batman let go, allowed the man to fall to the ground. His eyes turned toward Helena, a flash of recognition behind them. “Who are you?”

    “You know who I am.” Helena approached her father. “Can hear it in my voice. This is over. Let’s go home.”

    Soon after, Helena was in the cave, unmasked. With her were the Batman and Catwoman, Bruce and Selina Wayne, both unmasked as well. She was nervous, unwilling to meet the eyes of her parents.

    “I overheard you talking. Figured it out, and was worried.” Here she rose her eyes. Helena knew she was right. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

    Selina didn’t say anything. She walked forward and embraced her daughter. Tears were shared, as the Batman looked on.

    Finally he spoke.

    “Welcome to the family, Huntress.”

     “Bruce, it’s so good to see you.”

    Bruce Wayne had stepped into the office of Gotham City’s mayor, and the two men warmly shook hands. “Thank you for seeing me, Mayor Hayes.”

    “Call me Gene.” Mayor Hayes gestured to a chair. “Please, sit. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

    Bruce did sit, and got right to the point. “Well, Gene, its come to my attention that James Gordon is stepping down as Commissioner.”

    “And it’s about time too. That man’s been with the department for nearly fifty years. I’ll be sorry to see him go, of course, but it’s time for new blood.”

    “Have you made any decisions regarding his replacement?”

    Mayor Hayes shook his head. “I’m under pressure to promote a woman to the position. You know how these feminists are. Captain Yindel seems qualified, but there’s really no way she could handle the job. Why?” The Mayor leaned forward. “Do you have someone in mind?”

    “Actually, Gene, I do.” Bruce Wayne couldn’t hide the smile. “Me.”

    Not at all to Bruce Wayne’s surprise, Mayor Hayes burst out laughing. “You? Commissioner of Police? Oh, that’s rich, Bruce. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard since the Joker exposed me to that gas of his. Oh, if Batman hadn’t gotten me that antidote in time.”

    “Actually, Gene.” The smile was gone from Wayne’s face. “I’m dead serious.”

    “What?” Now Mayor Hayes wasn’t smiling. “Bruce, you can’t possibly be serious. A man of your reputation? Nobody would support you as Commissioner. The Department certainly wouldn’t respect you.”

    “Let me worry about that,” Bruce said. “I’m unwilling to go into specifics, Gene, but trust me, I’m more than qualified for the job. Given the chance, I’ll prove it to everybody. That’s all you need to provide me, Gene.”

    “Call me Mayor Hayes.” The Mayor had risen to his feet. “If this isn’t some joke, Mister Wayne, then you’re clearly off your nut. I’d like you to leave my office, now.”

    “Whatever you say.” As Bruce was rising from his seat, the phone on Mayor Hayes’ desk started to ring. “No, you get that. I’ll see myself out.”

    But Mayor Hayes called after Bruce just as he was about to open the door. “Wait, Bruce, it’s your wife.” He held the receiver out. “Maybe it’s to talk some sense into you.”

    Taking the receiver, Bruce put it to his ear and spoke. “Yes, dear. No, no I don’t think there was anything else I wanted mailed to day. But as long as you’re asking, could you please take out that check and have it cancelled. It would seem the Mayor doesn’t need our support.”

    A sudden choking sound caused Bruce to lower the receiver and address the mayor. “Sir, are you all right.”

    Mayor Hayes was physically fine, if a little choked up over the prospect of losing half-a-million dollars in campaign contributions.

    “Actually…now, now that I’ve thought about it, yes, I’m sure there be no, no objection to a trial basis. Given the chance, I’m sure you’d make a great Commissioner.”

    Bruce smiled, and spoke back into the phone. “On second thought, honey, leave the check in. After all, every little bit helps.” Handing the phone back to a shaky Mayor Hayes, Bruce said, “Thank you, Gene. You won’t regret this.”

    Fewer crimes were being reported in the Gotham City newspapers, mostly because there was nothing to report. The latest headlines that Bruce Wayne had read were: “Huntress Shuts Down Latest Mob Den!” and, “Batman and Robin Foil Attempted Break-Out at Arkham!” Crime prevention and strikes at organized crime. That was the worst Gotham City saw nowadays. So much different from Bruce Wayne’s childhood.

    “Mister Wayne, I think you actually look happy.” Approaching from behind, Selina had wrapped her arms around the aged Bruce and lowered her head next to his.

    Bruce turned his head and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s because I am happy, Mrs. Wayne.”

    On the table in front of Bruce Wayne, the latest headlines and photographs had just been set into the scrapbook. Together, they flipped through some of the pages. First and foremost was an article on the Wayne murder, followed by the first rumors of a “Bat-Man” after a long gap. Other exploits followed, milestones perhaps, of one sort or another. A laughing man that brought laughing fish to Gotham City, the swarm of birds that brought darkness to Gotham at mid-day, monster men who followed the lead of a bald little scientist.

    Finally there was the last page, with the latest photos. One featured a young woman with a large domino mask and somewhat revealing costume. The other photo was of two men dressed in the markedly different costumes of Batman and Robin. Of this one, Bruce was particularly proud, as the man behind that Batman mask was Dick Grayson, formerly Robin. In the identity of Robin was Jason Todd, the young man that Dick had taken under his wing.

    “It’s satisfying,” Bruce told his wife. “Knowing that others continue what you started, and seeing them succeed at it.”

    Unconsciously, Selina reached forward and touched the plastic covering, over the photo of Huntress. Behind that mask was Helena Wayne, daughter of Selina and Bruce. “I know exactly what you mean. As far as lives go, ours has been pretty good.”

    Again, Bruce Wayne turned his head to kiss Selina. Only this time, he cupped her face with his palm and turned her head so that he could kiss her on the lips. “Honey, it’s been the best.”

    With his other hand, Bruce Wayne closed the scrapbook.

Next Issue: Follow the further adventures of The Batman in the pages of his own E-Series here at JLU: 2001 as brought to you regularly by Stephen Crosby.
 

Story © 2007 Steve Crosby and may not be reproduced without permission.