[CENTER][IMG]https://i.imgur.com/0xjS780.png[/IMG][/CENTER]

[b]Gotham City, Wayne Tower
The Cave
3:15 AM[/b]

[color=8882be]"Bruce?! Bruce, are you alright?! My god..."[/color]

My entire body hurts like hell. Head's throbbing so hard and my ears are ringing so loudly that I can only barely hear Alfred's panicked words as I realize that I've just drifted back into consciousness. Sitting up, I discover that I've been slumped over the front of The Batcycle, and a trail of blood is seeping down the side of the steering column from where I had passed out. What exactly happened becomes clear fairly quickly - it was the concussion. The effects of that while also mixed with the internal trauma and blood loss finally caught up with me, and I lost consciousness somewhere in the midst of my attempt to escape from the GCPD. 

The last thing that I can remember is outracing a helicopter spotlight as I tried to lead it away from the secret tunnel entrance that I use to disappear whenever I want to return here, but whenever I went to circle around and reach the entrance proper, I must've... fainted. Though the question I have now isn't so much how I didn't lose control of The Batcycle and crash. It's how did I manage to get here in the first place. 

Was it another remote hacking? Did "Oracle" find their way back into the system and lead me here? Half dazed, I try to stand and slump back against the cycle. That theory is quickly abandoned, as it doesn't make much sense to begin with. Even if they knew my identity, that individual would never have found a way to lead me back to The Cave. It's walls are reinforced with a special plating that allows it's location to be untraceable by satellite, heat signature, or otherwise. Did Alfred somehow take some kind of remote control of the bike and get me here? 

[b][color=DimGray]"Alfred..."[/color][/b]

My voice is hoarse. Weak, as I'm barely able to make out a syllable. I reach out to him as he approaches and find my hand limping. My adrenaline could only push me so far after my particularly brutal encounter with Poison Ivy. Without even knowing it, I was spent and done long before the fight ever truly ended. Alfred immediately rushes to my side as I feel myself start to slip, throwing my arm around his shoulders. Sixty-two years old, over a lifetime of war behind him, and he's still stronger than I give him credit for. 

[color=8882be]"Easy, I've got you."[/color], he reassures me, lightly slapping my face so that I don't pass out again. [color=8882be]"You nearly took a dive back there, lad, and it looks as though you paid for it. I'm taking you to the hospital. No debating, no discussion. That was my rule for helping you, remember?"[/color]

I try and argue, but I don't have the strength to even do that. He reaches up and removes the cowl from my face, tossing it to floor as he helps me up the platform leading into the armory. By the way that he's looking at me, side-eyeing as he helps me limp ahead, I'm fairly certain that whatever he sees staring back isn't too pleasant.

[color=8882be]"No offense intended, Bruce. But with the way you look, we'll have to take a sledgehammer to one of the Ferrari's in order to convince the doctors that you crashed at [i]top[/i] speed. Those [i]are[/i] the fastest cars that you've stored in the garage, if I do recall..."[/color]

He's talking about Bruce Wayne's collection of sports cars on the eleventh floor of the building. Each one of them are worth well over five hundred thousand in parts alone. It'd be enough to give even [i]me[/i] pause if I weren't already bleeding to death all over my own floor. Eventually, I give him a cursory nod, allowing him to place me atop a firm enough surface to get my armor removed. Alfred's a decorated former agent of SHIELD and has seen his share of high-risk espionage scenarios. I trust him implicitly to be able to pull off making me look as though I suffered an automobile accident while drunk, rather than going head-to-head with a metahuman who managed to crush one of my ribs with her bare hands. 

All I have to do is lay back and allow him to take charge. Hoping that, even if I do drift back into unconsciousness, I'll at least be alive enough to thank him.

[color=8882be]"There we are. Now, if I can just find a suit of your's to tear to pieces..."[/color]

Before I can react to that, I feel myself slipping back into the dark...

[b]Gotham City, Precinct 27
Captain Gordon's Office
3:30 AM[/b]

[color=00a651]"I'm sorry, what do you [i]mean[/i] that they [i]lost[/i] him?!"[/color]

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/69SZhpF.png[/IMG]

Agent Nashton stared his sheepish college down, clearly agitated to a point that was indescribable. Agents Arthur Brown and Peyton Riley looked at eachother, both at a loss for words. They had both worked with Nashton long enough to believe that the old adage of "don't shoot the messenger" wasn't going to apply, here, so each knew that the next words that they had to offer their superior were going to have to be chosen wisely. Brown started to speak up, but Riley nudged him in the side, hard. If there was going to be a de-escalation of this, she couldn't risk his idiotic mouth getting them both into hot water. 

[color=a2d39c]"We... that is to say, Captain Gordon's unit had been preparing to have The Batman blocked into a four way intersection ahead of his predicted trajectory. He was less than a block away and the chopper was already in pursuit, but he just... I don't know how else to say it, Nashton. He disappeared."[/color]

Nashton's left eye twitched as he stood, staring Agent Riley down. 

[color=00a651]"People do not just [i]disappear[/i]. People [i]actively on the run from the police[/i] do not generally find a way to miraculously de-materialize into mere particles, because [i]unless[/i] our vigilante really [i]is[/i] a metahuman entity, which would directly contradict every report that [i]you've[/i] filed on the matter with me, what you're [i]actually[/i] telling me is that The Batman escaped and absolutely [i]no one[/i] on this pathetic excuse for a police force knows how he did it!"[/color]

Riley was silent. Perhaps even stone-faced, which was a far cry from her partner, who had visibly taken a step back. Physically, Agent Nashton wasn't very imposing, especially to an army grunt like Arthur Brown. But something about inciting his temper, whenever he rarely lost it, was enough of a stark contrast from his usually narcissistic personality to make Brown want to be anywhere but in the room. Nashton was not only cunning and a man who had proven himself to be unbelievably resourceful, but he was someone who could pull alot of strings. Given that clout, both agents knew that if they didn't follow his instructions to the letter, they could wind up back to where he had found them - at their life's natural end, void of a purpose, and respectively back to the bottle or the sweet release of a heroin needle. 

[color=a2d39c]"That is correct, sir."[/color] 

[b][color=00a651]"Imbeciles!"[/color][/b]

Taking an emptied bottle of scotch, Nashton threw it against the wall and smashed it in a blind rage. Several of the officers outside could be heard stopping what they were doing, with all eyes clearly on the door currently closed to them. Edward breathed long and hard to himself, staring at the wall. Staring past the wall, trying to collect his thoughts. Even he knew that he did his worst possible work when influenced by emotion. What he dealt in was clear-cut, undeniable facts. That was how the game was played. That was how the riddles were solved. Calculated logic over all else. 

Refusing to so much as turn to look at his informants, Nashton instead composed himself and began to walk towards the window overlooking the Gotham City skyline.

[color=00a651]"And where's Gordon now?"[/color]

Brown rubbed the back of his head, left a little shaken. Not by Nashton's outburst, but by the fact that he was still trying to piece what had happened for himself and failing to come up with any tangible answers. 

[color=00a99d]"On a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, on his way to the ER. The Bat nailed him, uh, pretty hard. There are alot of people in this unit that are heading to the same place, right about now. He took on practically every one of them and walked away like it was nothing."[/color]

Nashton sneered.

[color=00a651]"It likely [i]was[/i] nothing to someone of even relatively high skill, let alone one masked neanderthal. This unit isn't merely incapable of handling such a man, as I once thought. They're impossibly out-gunned and woefully lacking in any measure of sheer intelligence. The discipline to bring him down is simply not there, and worse, I was made a fool for ever believing this would end tonight."[/color]

[color=a2d39c]"We've got remaining units culled from Captain Flass' department, searching the streets for any sign that he's hiding somewhere along the path that he used to dodge us, but..."[/color]

Nashton closed his eyes, bringing his forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose to give it a careful massage.

[color=00a651]"A useless waste of effort. Call them off."[/color]

Riley raised an eyebrow. 

[color=a2d39c]"Sir?"[/color]

Slamming his hand against the wall, Nashton hatefully glared back at her.

[color=00a651][b]"DID I NOT MAKE MYSELF CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU, AGENT?! CALL THEM [U]OFF[/U]!"[/b][/color]

Immediately producing her phone, Riley turned around and began to nervously dial the number that would get her in touch with the commanding officer that was conducting the search. Sighing to himself, as Brown took a step forward, Nashton pulled up Gordon's chair and sat back down, placing his hands together.

[color=00a651]"Keeping them occupied like this. Fanned out like mice in a maze. This is exactly what he wants. He planned this to the letter. I don't know [i]how[/i], but he must have. It's the only way that he could have escaped. And you were too stupid to see it, Edward. This is no ordinary man to lock away and throw upon the mercy of the courts. This is Coast City, revisited. This is your academy years coming back to haunt you. The Gold Coast Ripper case all over again..."[/color]

Brown stared at Agent Nashton as his tone drifted into a quiet, contemplative whisper. He'd seen this before. When backed against a wall, it was like Nashton's brain went into overdrive in order to power him through the given scenario that caused him stress. It had never failed to work before, and he saw no reason that Nashton was going to come up on empty this time, either.

[color=00a99d]"Sir, if I may..."[/color]

[color=00a651]"Quiet. Unlike you, I'm doing my due diligence to this department by [i]thinking[/i]. So unless you have an update that involves The Batman in cuffs and being transported directly to me, I'd highly suggest that you [i]get out[/i]."[/color]

Brown paused, then nodded and turned for the door. By the time that it had opened and shut, Nashton suddenly stumbled upon a realization. A look of inspiration came over his face, as he thought of The Batman's methods. In every previous instance that he had engaged with the Gotham City Police Department, the vigilante had been made to be the one to outrun them. While it would take a considerable amount of training, there were some who were capable of turning being on [i]that[/i] end of the chase to their advantage, as long as that was where they remained. On the run, they were always going to succeed.

But if they were to be the ones to provide the incentive to lure The Batman out of hiding and have him go directly to them, it would be a much different scenario. Were he to walk directly into a trap that Nashton would organize and plan to the absolute letter himself, there would be no way out for the so-called Caped Crusader. And how do you bait a man who believes himself to be the paragon of law and order?

You give him a target.

Nashton's lips curled into a devious smile.

[color=00a651]"Oh, Eddie. You've done it again."[/color]

[b]Gotham City, Elliot Memorial Hospital
Room 539
6:45 AM[/b]

[b][color=a187be]"Alfred, look. I think he's waking up."[/color][/b]

Slowly, my eyes drift open to the sound of an EKG machine and the voice of Selina Kyle from my left. I can feel the sting of a needle jammed into my right arm, likely connected to an IV. Bandaging wrapped tightly around my waist and head. I reach up and try to feel for where exactly the wrapping around my skull begins and ends, and only find that a large percentage of my face is covered in the cotton of hospital adhesive patching that's meant to stay in place over open wounds that were recently stitched-up. Most of my body is numb, riddled with pain medication and steroids. By the time I can fully see, it hurts my head to look directly at any light source. Groaning, I place my hand to my head and rest it back onto the provided pillows. A wave of comfort greets me as I start to loosen up the tense nature of my natural body language. 

Guess this all means I'm alive.

[color=8882be]"Very good show, Master Bruce."[/color]

I look up, eyes half-open, to see Alfred sporting not only his chauffeur's uniform, but putting on that heavily practiced posh British accent. It's jarring at first, given that I haven't had to hear in days. But that's just how good of an actor Alfred really is. I practically don't recognize him as he stands over me, his posture straight and proper, placing a hand on the guard rail of my bed. 

[color=8882be]"We had thought to have nearly lost you, sir. Miss Kyle had even taken the liberty of bringing [i]get well soon[/i] flowers. From the gift shop, I believe."[/color]

Selina immediately becomes insensed, placing her hands on her hips.

[b][color=a187be]"Excuse [i]you[/i]. I'll have you know that they came from Dorsia's, on 5th street. Had them picked out by a professional florist. Unlike Prettyboy Wayne, here, I'm not a cheapskate when it comes to visiting my sick friends."[/color][/b]

Alfred nods, never once breaking character.

[color=8882be]"My humblest apologies, Miss. I shan't make such an [i]egregious[/i] error again."[/color]

Selina smirks as Alfred turns around. 

[color=8882be]"If you need me, sir, I shall be consulting your physician to inform him that you've awoken. Welcome back to the land of the living."[/color]

By the time the door to the room automatically slides shut, Selina grabs her purse and slings it over her shoulder.

[b][color=a187be]"Always liked that butler of your's. Contradictorily well-mannered and sassy. If you ever want to fire him, Bruce, be sure to give him my number."[/color][/b]

I look over at Selina and weakly smile. It's... a surprise to see her here, quite honestly. Usually, I can barely get her to accompany me to any number of social engagements, let alone pin her down long enough to have one simple, normal conversation. She's a good friend when she wants to be, but that's just the problem. It always has to be on her terms. Apparently, me being gravely injured and brought to the point of near death is one of those terms. 

[color=Gray][b]"It's... good to see you. I didn't think... I had anyone."[/b][/color]

Selina smiles back. 

[b][color=a187be]"Well, clearly you do. You just saw him leave the room, after all."[/color][/b]

I shake my head.

[color=Gray][b]"No, I meant..."[/b][/color]

Pressing two fingers against my lips, she leans forward.

[b][color=a187be]"Enough of that. I know what you meant, I was just busting your balls. I'd have come sooner if I knew you had a death wish. You really ought to leave the drunk driving to the professionals, you know?"[/color][/b]

If only she knew the half of what really brought me here. Even as I lay in bed and remain unable to move freely, my mind is racing with memories of the last few hours. Harvey Dent's narrow escape. Deadshot's attempt on his life, and the fight that finally took him down. Meeting Jessica Jones, but under the control of Poison Ivy. Having to break her of that control. Taking on a good majority of an entire precinct of the GCPD. As far as my nights out go, this one is likely to be remembered for quite some time. It's given me alot to learn from, at least.

[color=Gray][b]"I'll try and... keep that in mind."[/b][/color], I reply, starting to feel the pain creep back. [color=Gray][b]"Thanks for coming, Selina. I mean that. We should make it more of a regular..."[/b][/color]

I stop myself, realizing just how that sounds. 

Not that I haven't considered it. Selina is an incredibly attractive woman, we share a few common interests, and she does know how to navigate Gotham's upper class society like no one else I've ever known. But she's also the daughter of the city's worst mobster, partially stuck-up in her ways, and a little [i]too[/i] infatuated with a crowd that I have no interest in actually being around. 

If we did decide to begin seeing eachother, it wouldn't last longer than a week before the both of us would find a squandered friendship left in the place of what's already proven to be a relatively good thing. We have a few things in common, but not [i]that[/i] much. Especially when it comes to what I have to offer on my end in terms of baggage. I think she could do alot better than a crazed vigilante who moonlights as a professional trust fund kid. 

[color=Gray][b]"I mean, obviously, I need more of your consultation. This isn't a very good look for me."[/b][/color]

Selina chuckles under her breath, looking towards the exit. 

[b][color=a187be]"Can't say that I wouldn't avoid looking at any mirrors if I were you. Now get some rest, idiot. Near death experiences don't suite you nearly as well as they do Harvey."[/color][/b]

As she walks towards the door, a realization hits me.

[i]Dent.[/I]

[color=Gray][b]"Selina. About Harvey... is he? I mean, did he..."[/b][/color]

She glances over her shoulder and gives a sarcastic eye-roll.

[b][color=a187be]"Oh, your man crush is fine. Spoke to him an hour ago, actually. He's heading to the Rockies for the week, on account of the whole [i]attempted assassination[/i] thing."[/color][/b], she explains. [b][color=a187be]"The police caught a guy that they think might have helped The Bat do it, but he isn't talking. Of course."[/color][/b]

I breathe a sigh of relief. In all the excitement, I hadn't even made sure that Harvey had made it to the plane. Lawton managed to fire off a single shot before I intervened, so the likelihood that he suffered another wound was higher than I'd ever considered. 

[b][color=a187be]"Speaking of that caped freak, you missed some [i]real[/i] excitement while you were out wrecking your wheels..."[/color][/b]

Picking up a newspaper sitting on one of the trays near the door, she tosses it toward me and manages to make it land squarely on my chest, causing me to react with a slight jump. They must've put me on more painkillers than I realized. Ordinarily, I would've caught that without so much as an effort.

[b][color=a187be]"Here. Some light reading material while you enjoy the cocktail of tranquilizers and unpleasantness that awaits."[/color][/b], she adds. [b][color=a187be]"While I'd love to stay and chat about... consultations, I've got to run. But I'll check on you later."[/color][/b]

Taking the paper, I unfurl the cover as Selina exits the door. And of course, all that I see are pictures of the carnage left over from last night, along with a police sketch of what eyewitness accounts have convinced the public that I look like in the corner.

[b]FIRE IN THE STREETS: Batman Attacks GCPD Captain, Injures Others In Escape[/b]

As Alfred makes his way back into the room, looking to make sure that Selina's heading for the elevator, I roll the newspaper back up and hand it to him, dissatisfied with the immediate reminder of the damage I inflicted.

[color=Gray][b]"Please. I can't read this. Not now."[/b][/color]

Taking it from me, he places it in a trash receptacle near the bed. 

[color=8882be]"Certainly. Though you should know, lad, you're probably going to have to remain out of action for a few days. You underwent some minor surgery to prevent internal hemorrhaging. And of course, there's the matter of the concussion."[/color]

I stare at the wall ahead, not really paying attention. 

It worries me. All of this effort, all of the fights that I've been picking with the police lately. Pushing myself even harder than before, trying to fight back my own demons. I still hallucinated, still lost myself to the rage. Got plenty of people hurt in the process, all in the name of my supposed 'crusade' to make things easier on the people of Gotham. Yet all I have to show for it are headlines that make me out to be a monster, and the worst part is? Nothing about that headline is actually a lie. 

I did openly attack them, this time. In the past, I've simply ran. Tried to stick to the shadows. I was trying to do the right thing in taking them on, covering Jones' escape so that she could get Zoe Lawton out of the area and into a safe space, but what if I choose poorly in the heat of the moment? What if I just made things worse? I wanted The Batman to scare criminals, but he's scaring [i]everyone[/i] lately...

[color=8882be]"Bruce? Are you alright?"[/color]

Sighing to myself, I lean back against the pillow.

[color=Gray][b]"I don't know. Maybe. Not really. I just... I think I may have made a mistake."[/b][/color]

Alfred raises an eyebrow.

[color=8882be]"In what way, if I may ask?"[/color]

[color=Gray][b]"All of this. The entire mission. What I've been willing to let myself become in order to achieve my goals. The lengths I've gone to, the people I've hurt."[/b][/color], I explain. [color=Gray][b]"Had I not escalated things with Deadshot, there's a possibility that the GCPD could have taken him down, eventually. Maybe. It would've at least spared the people living in that neighborhood in The Narrows alot of horror. And that's all on me."[/b][/color]

For a moment, Alfred's silent. I can't tell if he wishes to condemn that sort of talk, or encourage me to begin doubting myself. For as hard as it's been on me to carry out this war, I know that this hasn't been easy on him, either. He's had to make alot of sacrifices to get us both to this point. I feel like I owe him more than I could ever repay. And it's all because I couldn't let the past go.

[color=8882be]"With all due respect, allow me to point out the obvious."[/color]

I look over at him, curiously.

[color=8882be]"You prevented the death of not only your friend, but an innocent young girl. Had the police intervened, it's likely that neither would have lived through the night. And once more, you prevented that child's murder from being carried out by a woman under the spell of something beyond her control, whose conscience likely would have never allowed for forgiveness of herself."[/color]

Placing his hand on my shoulder, Alfred looks me directly in the eyes.

[color=8882be]"Without being too generous, you saved three lives tonight by putting yourself in harm's way. That is never going to be how the papers sell it, but it is the simple fact. By acting in a way that you considered morally justified, you stood between their lives and an inevitable death. And against all odds, you spat in death's face."[/color]

Giving a shrug, he places his hands behind his back and looks off, preparing himself to resume the act of the faithful butler as the doctors approach the door to brief me on my condition.

[color=8882be]"In my day, we'd call that a victory."[/color]

I smile to myself as he turns his back to me and greets the doctors.

Thank you, old friend.

[CENTER][IMG]https://cdn.iconscout.com/icon/free/png-128/batman-20-282256.png[/IMG][/CENTER]