Chapter 6: Masks

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That night when Batman first appeared, Gordon had arrived at the scene as other officers had secured it. When he got out of his car, he saw men and the members of the Black and White gang all tried up. There was also a box that was full of drugs.

"Falcone's men?" One of the officers asked.

"Does it matter?" Gordon asked. "We'll never tie him to it, anyway."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," The same officer said as he pointed.

Gordon looked in the direction and saw Falcone tied to one of the harbor lights in chains with his arms spread out. The gang leader was also tried to the side of it as well. Since the light was on, it light up the sky as the light casted his shadow.

"What the hell is that?" A different officer asked.

"Cut him down," Gordon said as he noticed something on a building across the way.

A figure watching as its cape fluttered in the wind.

The Batman.


Rachel Dawes tossed the newspaper onto Fnch's desk as she smiled. The front page had a picture of Falcone strapped onto the harbor light and the paper, well all of the newspaper, where talking about this bat.

"Now way to bury it now," Rachel said.

"Maybe so, but there's Judge Phelan-" Finch stated.

"I've got Phelan covered."

"And this 'bat' they're babbling about..."

"Even if these guys'll swear in court to being thrashed by a giant bat... we have Falcone at the scene. Drugs, prints, cargo manifest. This bat guy gave us everything. This may be bigger than when Tony Stark said he's Iron Man a few months ago."

"Damn right. Let's get frying."


Alfred was walking with a tray of breakfast for Y/N, who was still in his room. Alfred was expecting him to still be in bed, he opened the door and saw that Y/N was up. "I... um... wasn't expecting you to be up yet, sir," He said. "After last night."

"Bats may be nocturnal. Me though, not so much," Y/N said. "I did sleep in an extra thirty minutes. I keep on forgetting that I don't have to be up at the crack of dawn."

Y/N was talking about his time in the Red Room. Some things would never be the same.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Alfred said in a joking way with a smile as he sat the try down. "Your theatrics made quite an impression."

"It's only the start," Y/n said as he took the paper as he sat on the bed. Alfred could now see some of the bruises on his back and arms, along with the scars from the Red Room.

"If those are to be the first of many more injuries to come it would be wise to find a suitable excuse," Alfred said. "Polo, for instance."

"I don't think I'm a polo person," Y/N replied.

"Strange injuries, a nonexistent social life-"

"I don't know anyone, minus Tony," Y/N pointed out. "And Rachel."

"These things, however, beg the question as to what exactly does Y/N Wayne do with his time and his money."

"What should I do? I have completely no idea what someone like me is supposed to do."

"Drive sports cars, date movie stars," Alfred suggested. "Buy things that are not for sale. Who knows, Master Wayne, you start pretending to have fun you might even have a little by accident."

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