He'd been distracted.
While crime was never in short supply in Gotham City, these past few nights had been rather quiet.
For the past week or so, he'd only thought of Anya, and frankly, it was becoming annoying.
He welcomed the bright, shining light, a bat projected in the middle. A perfect distraction from his own pathetic swooning.
"Commissioner," The Batman nodded, joining Gordon on the roof of the police station.
Gordon gave the man a once over. "I was wondering if you've heard from our... Friend."
Bruce had avoided informing the commissioner (and Alfred) of the full extent of "the incident".
All the two men knew was that Bruce had been attacked by a man too strong to be human.
Bruce wasn't invincible, he knew as much, but he'd never experienced something quite like that night. Never had somebody had the power to completely debilitate him, and when he wasn't wrapped up in thoughts of the woman who had saved him from uncertain fate, he was plagued with theories and explanations on who the man could be.
The night had started like many others: Bruce had been patrolling the city when he'd seen it.
The major bank in Gotham, Gotham United, prided itself in its top-notch security, which true to its word, seemed to be the best. While Bruce had often found himself on the scenes of other bank robberies, he'd never been to a scene at Gotham United.
However, the figure hanging off the top of the bank's dome shaped roof could not be ignored. Bruce watched from a neighboring building, camouflage in the dark, as the figure took out a sharp box-cutter like device.
It sliced through the glass with ease. The robber punched the cut-out glass and it toppled to the floor inside the bank.
He expected sirens, but there was no noise: only the rushing wind.
Bruce waited until the figure disappeared into the bank before making his own move.
He landed on the dome with a soft thud.
Bruce reached into his utility belt. He attached a large carabiner and retractable rope to one of the metal beams lining the now exposed part of the ceiling and lowered himself into the bank.
. The glass crunched beneath his feet.
The sound of approaching footsteps alerted the Batman, and he hurried to hide behind the bank teller desk.
"We're going to be so rich." A voice said, radiating nervous excitement.
"I'm buying a yacht first thing tomorrow." Another joined in. "What about you, Big Guy?"
Silence.
Footsteps became distant, so Bruce assumed the other man had walked past the two.
"Not much of a talker that guy." The first voice muttered. "He should loosen up a bit. He's too serious."
"Probably why the Boss got 'em. He's our Achilles, and Gotham's our Troy."
"Who?"
"The first thing you should buy with your cut is a fucking book, bro."
Bruce waited for the bickering to become a faint echo before following them.
He was deep into the center of the bank, rounding a corner, when it happened.
One minute he was carefully maneuvering, hiding in the shadows, when the shadows fought back.
The air was knocked out of his lungs as a punch connected with his stomach. He flew back landing on the floor, palms behind him.
He jumped to his feet. Immediately, he knew this man had to be the one from the roof.
He was dressed in all black, a curl of bleach blonde hair peaked underneath his hood. His eyes were a dark blue and his lips were drawn into a thin line. His most striking characteristic, however, was his skin: the nearly translucent complexion was marred with scars, both new and old. One would have trouble finding a piece of unmarred skin.
"Holy shit, that's the Batman!" a voice shrieked. From further down the hall, Bruce saw the men who he knew had to be voices one and two. They were unremarkable, in body and face. They were dressed in black hoodies as well, but unlike the man in front of him, these men had large duffle bags slung across their shoulders and a terrified expression across their face.
"Get out of here," The man growled. He turned back to Bruce. "I've got this."
Bruce lunged at the man. He side stepped bringing his elbow down on the back of the vigilante's head.
Bruce swung at the man, flesh hitting flesh, but he didn't seem phased. If anything, it seemed the hit had only inconvenienced him slightly.
The man swung, and Bruce ducked. Finally, the man's fist connected with Bruce's face, and it didn't stop.
The man kept hitting, until the Batman was splayed across the floor.
Bruce's vision was blurred. He could taste blood, but he could not tell if it came from his lip or his tongue.
"Stay down." the man whispered. He was close enough that even through the haze, Bruce could see the crooked smile twitching on his face.
Perhaps it was the smile or the command to stay down, but Bruce, ever the sadist, knew he could not simply stay there.
For one, if he were discovered in the bank, the headline "Bruce Wayne is The Batman!" would run in every single newspaper and television program for the next decade. And two, he was far too prideful (and curious) to let this man tell him what to do.
Bruce ignored his body's screams for mercy, dragging himself off the floor. He managed a half jog/half limp to the bank's lobby, where he watched the man disappear onto the roof.
He grabbed the grappling hook from his belt and sent the grapple into the ceiling where it smashed through another glass pane and found a metal beam for support.
Bruce didn't remember much after that.
The footage he'd reviewed showed him jumping from rooftop to rooftop all throughout Gotham, attempting to catch up with the man.
The man did not seem phased by the cat and mouse game, and Bruce started to wonder if they were playing a lure and fish game instead.
Bruce had thought he'd lost the man over the lower side of Gotham. As he manically scanned the skyline for signs of the hulking figure, he'd been hit in the back of the head and fell, the sound of flesh meeting metal rang out of the footage, and that was it.
The next memory he had, not provided to him by the contact footage, was Anya.
Back to the present, Commissioner Gordon held out a manilla folder.
Bruce took it, flipping through the pages.
"The Romans, Carters, and Smiths were robbed last night, if you can believe it."
The Romans, Carters, and Smiths were Gotham's other royalty, the names were slightly less known than the Waynes, but they were well known within Gotham's upper circle.
"All of them?"
Gordon nodded, face grim. "All of them. Romans had three million in a lockbox, who hoards that kinda money in their house?"
Bruce wanted to remind Gordon that banks weren't exactly a safer option given the recent heist, but he let it go.
Gordon continued, "Stole around five million in cash from all three, lots of valuables, and paintings. The new D.A. and mayor are demanding Gotham P.D. put a stop to this."
The Batman let out the closest sound to a laugh Gordon had ever heard.
"If only it were that easy."
"If only," Gordon acknowledged. "Look, I can get you to the crime scenes first thing tomorrow night, but the D.A., the force, you know how they feel about you."
He did know. The Batman was a polarizing figure for citizens and politicians alike. The Batman was a constant in Gotham politics, and frankly, Bruce didn't trust any of them- even those who praised his after dark activities.
There were two people he trusted in Gotham: James Gordon and Alfred.
"The families are out of town, but security will be there. Just meet me here, and we'll go from there, alright?"
He turned away momentarily, switching the Bat signal off.
When he turned around, the Batman was gone.
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Author's Note: Hey, guys. Do you prefer short chapters or long chapters? I'm debating if I should do shorter chapters or longer chapters with fewer uploads. I don't really have an upload schedule as I'm a college student, but I'll try to work something out. I don't know if y'all have seen it, but I'm also writing another The Batman fanfiction titled "Tainted Love," and it's super different from this one, but I love it. I've uploaded a prologue and chapter one for that. I'll do my best to get out at least two more chapters this week, even if they're just something short and sweet. Let me know what you think! Make sure to heart this chapter and all that jazz! Thanks for reading - C