(I got this idea from some pictures floated by Francesco Francavilla on Comic Twart http://www.comictwart.com/search/label/Batman and that what if Batman HAD started fighting crime the year he was published 1939. DC owns all rights, characters etc in this fan-fic that I’ve cobbled together. I hope you like it. It's rated MA because it covers me, this chapter isn't really MA material but just in case)
The Pennyworth Retirement Estate
“You want to know about me?” Bruce looked at the young man standing before him, dressed more like a hand grenade had hit a clothing bin. Bruce’s oxygen tube hissed quietly “Well I was born in 1919; my parents were murdered in an alleyway in 1927. I put on my costume for the first time in 1939 and became a crime fighter. I’ve seen everything! I’ve been everywhere! Done the impossible, planned for the inevitable. Now I sit in this chair waiting for my death to finally come and take me from this god forsaken life that has cost me so much! The end”
The boy pulled an earphone out of his ear and looked up from his phone “What’s a crime fighter?”
“You must be one of these idiot children with an application for everything but no common sense!” Bruce’s hand shook as he took the control of his wheelchair and began to turn his chair away.
“Mr Wayne, I…”
“You really have no idea who I am…was, do you?”
“No Mr Wayne” he replied sheepishly “I just needs to write and my dee says to axe you”
“You’re J’Marcus’s boy?” Bruce turned the chair back.
“Uh huh”
“He’s the only decent thing in this living morgue. Reminds me of Alfred”
“Alfred? What’s an Alfred?”
“He was my butl…he was my dearest…he…” Bruce trailed off, tears welling in his ancient eyes.
“Mr Wayne, I’m soz that I frowned you. I’ll just ask one of the other peeps”
“It’s fine” Bruce shifted his weight in his chair “What’s your name son?”
“James”
“I had a friend called James” A smiled cracked across his wrinkled lips “Good man, police officer. Many, many years ago. Nice to meet you James” Bruce extended his hand and James went for a ghetto handshake and soon it turned into a comedy with each not knowing how the other shook hands.
“Never mind” smirked Bruce “Now let’s start again. What came I do for you James?”
“I gots to tap a blog on the oldest peeps I’s can find for Mrs Harper’s class”
“Charming” muttered Bruce
“You talks funny Mr Wayne” James smiled
“So do you James” replied Bruce “What would you like to know?”
“Everything really”
“Good answer. I shall start at the beginning” Bruce indicated for James to have a seat “Try to keep up”
“S’okies” said James as he slumped into the chair to hear the near one hundred year old speak
“But first I’m going to teach you a few things that would make Alfred very proud, the correct use of the English language”
Steps of Gotham City Police Plaza
A throng of press gathered on the steps to hear the statement of the newly appointed police commissioner Katherine Grayson give her first statement. She took the podium.
“People of Gotham City! I am not going to make you any promises. I could waste your time with rhetoric, outline strategy on ways to reduce crime, rattle off numbers on how many new police will be hitting the streets; but I won’t! This city has been through that all before. Even as the media has called it and I quote “The Golden Age of Gotham” under Commissioner James Gordon. But this isn’t the eighties anymore! I am simply implementing a zero tolerance policy on crime. I’ll say that in case people missed it: ZERO TOLERANCE! This backed up with City Halls and the Federal Government’s reinstatement of the death penalty here in Gotham means if you break the law…”
“Miss Grayson! Miss Grayson!”
Katherine looked over the top of her glasses “It’s Mrs Grayson! And your question that couldn’t wait until I finished?”
“Stephen Grant DP Online. So you’re going to execute jaywalkers and litter bugs?”
“Are you an idiot? Are you missing from a village? Next question?”
“Kyleen Jefferson-Lopez, Post Dot Com. Isn’t this the same policy implemented in New York City fifteen years ago?”
“It worked didn’t it? Street crime down! Murder rate down! Drug related crime DOWN!”
“But not completely” retorted Kyleen
“Maybe Mr Grant’s stupidity is rubbing off on you!” Katherine looked straight at her “If you want to live in a utopia, then apply to live on Themyscira with the amazons. We humans are always going to manage to do the wrong thing. A crimeless society would make my job obsolete and that’s something I strive for! Until then a zero tolerance policy backed up by a death penalty is the only way to curb people’s behaviour. Now any more sensible questions?”
“What about Batman?”
“…Didn’t think so. Thank you” Katherine left the podium and headed into the building. She smiled as caught sight of her father, standing in the lobby resting on his cane
“Good job sweetheart” he said embracing her warmly
“What are you doing here” she asked
“I’m old, bored and I wanted to see my little girl in action” he laughed.
“How’s the leg?”
“Still attached. You avoided the last question”
“That’s because Damien asked it deliberately to provoke me, knowing full well there was no way I could do anything without making a scene”
Dick Grayson stopped and looked his daughter right in the eye “So what about Batman?”
Katherine looked at her dad and sighed “When, not if, when we catch Damien, we arrest him. We charge him and then it’s up to a court of law to decide whether or not he killed Connor. Until then I do my job”
An officer walked up to Katherine and handed her a file and a phone. “I’m sorry dad but duty calls. Dinner tonight?”
“Sounds good sweetheart” he replied as he watched his pride and joy navigate the corridors of power and paperwork.
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