I am the Night

"Take all of our stock of the Will Smith book and put it out in the main display, Wayne. After his incident at the Oscars, that book I'm thinking will be hot again." The beautiful red-haired manager, Madison smiled as she put her hands on her hips.

Wayne couldn't help staring at her blankly. In his mind, she was the perfect woman. From the first moment, he interviewed for this job with her had been harboring a severe crush on her. Being his boss he knew that there was no way in hell she would ever give him more than polite greetings as a coworker, but in his heart and his imagination, she was always the woman of his dreams. "Yes, of course, Madison. Should I keep any of the William Barr books out on the second display?"

"Yes, thanks for asking, Wayne." She then turned to another of his coworkers and brushed a strand of her blondish red hair over her ear.

As Wayne stared another coworker, Brad, came up behind him and slapped him on the back, "You gonna ask her out or keep staring her down until she finally gets creeped out?" Brad chuckled.

"Dude! You know she is seeing that rich guy, what's his name." Wayne frowned and started pulling boxes of the Will Smith book out from the stock room.

Brad laughed and shook his head, "Money isn't everything. You'll never know if she's interested if you don't ask."

Wayne shook his head, "Yeah, but I'll also never know if she's not as long as I don't ask." He dropped the last box on his cart and then started moving out to the main section of the store.

Brad followed behind him with another cart and asked, "Have you gone to see it yet?"

"I'm going after work tonight." Wayne said with a smile on his face, "I wanted to see it opening night, but Madison asked me to close."

Brad laughed again, "She has got you so hooked." He shook his head and then asked, "Why don't you ask her to come with you?" Brad looked around and then saw Madison looking their way, "Yo, hey Madison, you wanna go see The Batman?"

Madison frowned and then turned up her nose, "Not with you, Brad. Not that it's any business of yours, but I already saw it with my boyfriend."

Wayne turned slightly red and then rapidly started to stack the books on the display stand. He silently cursed Brad. He knew she was already seeing someone, there was no need for Brad to pick that scab right this moment. Wayne fumed through the rest of his shift. His anger at Brad kept his mind off other things, which quickly made his day go by.

Wayne was so out of it that he walked right up to a crime in progress. A wealthy-looking couple stood in front of their little boy as a man with a gun pointed it toward the wealthy man and commanded, "Give me her bag, your wallet, and the watch."

Wayne felt his heart beating like a drum in his chest. He was standing just off to the side of the mugger and probably still had time to turn around and run. The wealthy woman looked right into his eyes with a pleading look. The mugger saw her look at him and then turned his way pointing the gun as he did so.

Wayne looked at the gun and for half a moment wondered if he could knock the gun out of the mugger's hand. He charged straight ahead into the mugger and tackled him to the ground. The sound of the gun going off was so loud it made his ears ring and then it felt like someone threw a rock at his chest. He was staring right into the face of the mugger whose eyes were full of fear. Wayne couldn't catch his breath as he held the mugger down. Beneath the ringing in his ears, he could hear the woman screaming as the wealthy man grabbed the gun in his shaking hand and pointed it at the mugger.

A few moments later Wayne felt the desire to close his eyes for a moment. In the blackness, he could hear the EMTs calling to him and the sound of the wealthy woman crying and trying to tell a police officer the full story about what happened. He tried to open his eyes but could only smell and hear. Once again he had the desire to sleep and allowed his mind to rest.

Wayne started to feel himself wake up. His body hurt like it never had before and he had a headache that hurt so much it caused him to feel nauseous. "He's starting to come to..." An older woman's voice softly spoke.

"Master Bruce, can you hear me? It's Alfred." An older male voice asked.

"Alfred? Alfred who?" Wayne was puzzled.

The older woman sighed and then spoke again, "He was hit pretty hard in the head this time, Alfred. He may have some memory loss and trouble organizing his thoughts. He's damn well lucky he didn't die this time."

Wayne asked, "Excuse me, but those people... Did I save those people?"

The older man and the older woman went quiet and then the man spoke, "Yes, Master Bruce. You saved them all."

Wayne smiled and then allowed himself to drift back into sleep once again. The pain in his head and body kept him from enjoying a truly deep sleep. As Wayne slept his head filled with scenes that seemed like they were from a ridiculously well-done movie. He saw himself as the protagonist in a pulp detective novel only he was wearing some kind of super suit. Eventually, he managed to organize his thoughts enough to make some kind of sense out of the scenes he was seeing. Memories that were not his own started to merge with his familiar memories until he saw his life as being that of two distinctly different people. His sense of self was challenged by this new identity until he managed to take back his sense of self from the new memories.

His eyes opened to a vaulted ceiling that he knew to be an abandoned unused subway station underneath the Wayne Industries building in downtown Gotham City.

He took a deep breath before looking around at what was the bat cave. He saw a motorcycle and a car that was the batmobile. Although from his memories he knew that it was just called the car. Sitting off to the side was a bank of computers that would make the guys in the Matrix movie jealous.

Wayne spoke out something so outlandish it sounded ridiculous even as the words left his mouth, "I'm Batman."

"Master Bruce?" The older man asked with a worried tone.

The older woman walked over and shined a penlight into each of his eyes and then asked, "Bruce, do you remember who he is?" She pointed at the older man.

Wayne answered immediately, "Alfred T. Pennyworth, the Wayne Family butler, my friend, and trusted confidante."

She nodded and then asked, "Do you also recall who I am?"

Wayne quickly answered, "Dr. Leslie Thompkins, a friend of my father's, my godmother."

"Well Alfred, it seems that once again he managed to survive against all odds. I told you last time it was the last time I would come down here and put him back together after he went out into the night picking fights with the worst people of Gotham." She packed up her medical bag angrily.

Wayne quietly spoke, "It wasn't his fault. He doesn't want me out there any more than you do..."

Dr. Thompkins stopped packing her bag and then asked in a quiet voice of her own, "Then why, Bruce? Why do you have to wage this one-man war on crime?"

Wayne closed his eyes and then spoke, "With great power comes great responsibility."

Dr. Thompkins snorted and then replied, "Bruce Wayne motivated by noblesse oblige? I don't believe that for a moment. You are motivated by vengeance. You usually even call yourself that instead of what that reporter calls you, the Batman." She sighed and then looked Wayne in the eyes, "Bruce, your father would have never wanted this kind of life for you. You are such a brilliant young man. You should be helping people on a much grander scale than stopping muggings, tracking down organized crime figures and serial killers. You have enough money to live the life of a truly noble and should be using your wealth like a noble. That's how you live up to the noblesse oblige is motivating you. Even if you are this generation's Sherlock Holmes, that doesn't mean you have to fight as a soldier. Sherlock knew to let the police handle the regular criminals."

Wayne smiled, "Gotham City is rife with corruption. There isn't enough money to buy it back. I realize my fight is not working yet, and I know that what I am doing resembles a Don Quixote-like charge at windmills, but I know in my heart that I can make the difference, I just need to find the right moment. The right criminal. That's when my crusade will end."