|When The Dawn Comes
Author: Kipling Bunny PM
Bruce ultimately feels as though his world is spinning further into darkness. Even more so after recent events. When will his proverbial dawn arrive? Meanwhile, he has to contend with an unknown superheroine. Nolan-verse/BMWWRated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Romance - Chapters: 2 - Words: 4,058 - Reviews: 37 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 37 - Updated: 09-15-08 - Published: 07-29-08 - id: 4431672
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Consider it disclaimed.
Hello everyone! This my attempt at a Nolan-verse/BMWW story. Batman, of course, is the exact character from both BB and TDK. Diana (WW) is also particularly the same as well. The only difference would be her first interactions with Man's World, and the like. I should also note her warrior regalia isn't typically the red, white and blue one. But perhaps it can be... later.
And this is set directly after The Dark Knight.
Geeky BMWW Fan- Thank you for the awesome beta. And thanks for putting up with all my silly tendencies. It helped a lot! I bestow upon you a magical betta that never dies. :D
And as always, thank you for reading everyone!
Chapter One: The Dawn Is Coming
In a moment of sheer-willpower, Bruce managed to close his eyes and meticulously started clearing his head. After nearly a month of neglecting his daily meditation routines, he finally noticed the clarity he had once held fast to had been lacking. The walls in his mind had been razed and Bruce needed time to build them back up.
"The night is always darkest before the dawn. And the dawn is coming." Harvey's voice unintentionally rang like a bell through Bruce's mind; it reminded him clearly of the day's prior memorial Gotham bestowed upon the former District Attorney.
It forced Bruce to open his eyes, while it also brought to mind the cataclysmic events that had taken place beforehand. And how Bruce's current dilemma came to be.
Allowing himself to remain deep in thought, Bruce kept his eyes trained on the large glass windows before him. He sat rigid in the soft leather seat overlooking the view of his wayward city. The waning light of day seeped through the high-rises of Gotham's downtown section, reminding him of one important fact: night was upon him.
And another drawn-out patrol of the city awaited him.
Why did it have to end like this?
Despite all he had tried to accomplish, and regardless of the effort he put into taking control of his life, everything felt as though it was spiraling downward. Harvey was someone he had put his faltering hopes in. The results in something so trivial couldn't have been worse.
And that was the least of his problems.
Bruce's perception had increased tenfold and he could sense his caretaker entering the room before it happened. The Englishman's steps were heavy. Bruce guessed he carried a tea tray along with him.
Alfred's smiling face and silver tray entered the billionaire's peripheral vision. "A cup before you leave, sir?"
Bruce glanced at the small white cup and nodded while reaching for it. "Why did it have to end this way, Alfred?" He vocalized the question that had been plaguing him. Somehow Bruce thought sharing his thoughts with another, mainly Alfred, could make him feel better. It only seemed to finalize the doom that had overwhelmed him.
"End, sir? In my mind, this is only the start of the beginning. Things have to get worse before they get better."
Bruce absentmindedly brought the hot porcelain up to his lips. "I can't imagine it getting much worse."
As if in answer to his comment, a mammoth explosion only a block away filled the once serene setting-sun landscape.
Immediately, the blast from the bomb shook the surrounding areas violently. The glass windows closest to Bruce threatened to crack underneath the powerful jolt from the explosion.
Broken glass was the last thing on his mind.
Bruce was already out of his seat and marching towards the false panic room deeply hidden within Wayne Tower where he stored an additional suit for emergencies and fast exits.
"Sir?" Alfred called out calmly.
"Drive out to the docks, Alfred. It'll be safer there." It wasn't a suggestion. Alfred knew that tone exceedingly well.
It was only a matter of minutes before Bruce left his building, donning the batsuit. His gait increased as he felt precious seconds slipping past. Time, it seemed, was never on his side.
Without making any noise, he hurried toward the backside of the massive building, completely shrouded in shadows. The dark of the night aided him in keeping out of plain sight and avoiding any connection to the Wayne structure. On this particular evening, however, extra precautions didn't matter. Everyone was focused on the burning building mere blocks from his own.
Once protected in the small alley past the parking garage, Bruce reached past his left side, near his belt, and grabbed the grappling hook. With a single swift motion, he sent the black spiraled hook towards the fire escape closest to him and pulled the release, allowing himself to fly higher into the night.
As he found sure footing, he climbed onto the roof while watching the Gotham Fire Department down below speed past in a blur, their sirens wailing into the darkness.
Craning his neck, Bruce could see the blaze from the building he stood on. The fire lit up the night with an eerie orange glow, bouncing off the water in the harbor and the glistening glass adorning Wayne Tower.
Bruce's eyes focused primarily on the smoke wafting from the blaze. The color had been highlighted by the fiery mess. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, the thick smoke was purple. A dark, royal purple.
He knew, somehow, the Joker had been responsible. He hadn't ignored his instincts in the slightest, but Bruce had momentarily wavered on the possibility. Perhaps it was a copy-cat, but it seemed unlikely. And even though the Joker had been safely secured in Arkham for at least three days, it didn't mean a thing.
The bastard was good at looking innocent.
Bruce growled as he lunged forward, kicking off the stone roof and onto the lower roof of the next structure, allowing himself to get closer to the monstrous blaze.
As he came closer, he could feel the heat permeating the air around him. He tried planning out and imagining the best way to enter the engulfed area to help search for survivors, but at all angles, it seemed futile.
Gritting his teeth, Bruce bounded across the building's roof and managed to get as close as possible to the inferno. After a few strenuous seconds, the only thing between him and the disaster was air.
His dark eyes searched the ground and he watched as surveyors, local authorities, on-lookers and firefighters scattered amongst the streets below. The firefighters were risking their lives upon entering. Their trucks were already in the process of showering the flames with their own means, but nothing seemed to be taking much effect.
As if just appearing out of thin air, something or someone fast and white flew past his peripheral vision. Bruce whipped his gaze from the inferno to the newest addition to the scene so quickly, he had to give himself a few moments to focus on just what exactly he was seeing.
From what he could tell, it was a woman. And she was flying.
Feeling helpless, he watched as this stranger, from the air, dashed into the burning remains and started ousting the fire from within. He wasn't sure how, but it was happening before his very eyes.
Once the lapping flames had died down significantly, Bruce once again grabbed his grappling hook and shot it over to an exposed metal beam. He secured himself and jumped across, flying into the calmed disaster. The remaining heat and purple smoke filled his lungs and eyes, making it nearly impossible to direct his steps once he had made contact with the smouldering building.
Gripping onto the stone siding, he climbed in through an open window. He could feel the heat off of the metal framing inside the room and even though his suit regulated his core temperature, Bruce's forehead immediately perspired upon walking further into the atmosphere.
The woman he had seen couldn't have survived something like this. Even though he only saw her a brief second or two, he noticed that her outfit wasn't entirely protective
But if she was flying... What did that mean? He didn't have enough time to think over the possibilities of who or what she was. He had a job to do.
Once he had made his way into the hallway, Bruce could see charred markings that streaked across the now open and exposed dry wall.
But so far he couldn't see anyone.
As he walked slowly but firmly through the lightless and dank environment, he saw her. He was far too camouflaged to be seen himself, which afforded him a great advantage. And from what he could see, it was definitely a her. And she was most definitely human. From what he could tell.
He watched silently as she gathered two smoke-saturated victims into her arms, only to then jump out of a nearby open window.
Glancing down onto the city street, he watched as she handed the people over to the awaiting ambulances that had gathered alongside the fire trucks. At least she wasn't a threat.
Who was this person?
Not waiting for her to return, Bruce started a thorough investigation of the floor. At once it dawned on him, the entire fire was completely snuffed out. It was more than apparent that this mystery woman had completed the task.
His mind ran with the possibilities. Could this be an actual superhero? Or rather, superheroine? He thought about the comic books he had read as a young boy. But this seemed entirely unrealistic.
Bruce had seen many things in his day, things that could be labeled as unexplainable, but this took the cake.
A noise from behind alerted him that he was being watched. He turned abruptly and saw a pair of blue eyes framed by long, black lashes staring back at him. If he hadn't been completely preoccupied with his current predicament, Bruce might have concluded that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
It didn't stop him, however, from completely studying her. Despite the fact that she was powerful, she didn't frighten him. Her body language indicated that she wasn't there to harm him, and that he shouldn't view her as a threat. Yet.
The most puzzling, however, was her outfit. It was a creamy alabaster warrior's tunic with metal and gold detailing. From what he could tell, it looked older than the first century. It also looked Greek.
"There are no more survivors." She seemed hesitant at first with speaking. Bruce noted a slight accent to her voice, but he couldn't place it. "And the fire is taken care of."
Bruce merely stared back at her. "Who are you?" He asked quietly. His voice might have come off more stern than he had intended. But while wearing the suit, he usually threw his polite nature to the wind.
Instead of answering him, she merely narrowed her eyes while backing away. After an extra second of silence, she retreated through the same window she had entered from and took to the smoky skies.
He watched as her figure disappeared from sight.
Once she had left, Bruce questioned the entire thing all together. Did what just happen, really happen? Had he just watched a beautiful woman fly away?
Still, he had a job to accomplish before the firemen came up to survey the damage. He hardly wanted to be seen, especially while on a night like this particular night. The authorities had more on their plate than having to deal with the outcast.
Bruce walked around, sullenly, looking for any evidence to the explosion. From the power of the blast, it was more than just an accident. It was planned. It could have been tampering. The gas lines, perhaps.
His mind reverted to the sadistic Joker. He frowned ruefully. It could be anything.
Giving up hope on finding any remaining evidence, Bruce turned the corner into the large lobby of the high-rise floor. The building was used for miscellaneous purposes. An accounting firm had held this particular floor. Including the one below it. Both had been affected greatly by the fire.
And at once, he saw it. Scrawled, off-white letters in the smudged, black backdrop. It must have been fire-retardant somehow, there was no other explanation.
All it said was: I left hints. And, of course, a smiley face had been left right next to the jarring words.
As Bruce left the building, he wondered greatly on the prospect of other 'accidents' as well. And if the Joker had truly left hints, he wondered what he would have to look for to stop another explosive from going off.
The mysterious woman also dominated his thoughts. He wondered if he would have to deal with another visit from her again.
For the first time in a matter of days, Bruce had no idea what to expect next.
Yes? No? Comments? Questions? Feel free to share and let me know. :D