Chapter Text
A frustrated sigh left Batman’s lips as he sat back in his chair, the monitors in his Batcave filled up his attention, a replay of a crime scene on his left, and all the data he could grab from the G.C.P.D on his right.
It was a string of murders that were happening in Gotham hospitals. Currently, four were dead and their entire heads were so severely meddled with that it was nearly impossible to identify them.
There were no witnesses, no connections, and the only thing in common was that each of their heads were intricately wrapped with gauze.
The footage he was reviewing was the last known footage of each victim, hoping Bruce would be able to find a clue.
Alas, his efforts were useless as he found nothing. No shadow, no sounds, nothing to give away any indication as to who could have done this.
Bruce sat up in his seat and shut off all of the monitors, a groan escaping his mouth as he did so.
He had been trying to figure out this crime for the past few months, but each time he attempted to analyze anything he would always fall short.
He felt his cellphone begin to buzz. He turned it over and read the name that appeared.
Boy Scout
Bruce smirked at the name he gave his friend before answering the call and putting the phone beside his ear.
“Clark.” He rasped into the phone,
“You never say ‘hi, how are you’, you’ve always got to go straight for the military answer.” Clark quickly retorted, unphased by his friend’s lack of warmth.
“What do you want?”
He heard Clark sigh, “Just calling to say hi and see how you were, you’ve been locking yourself up in your cave for awhile now. I just figured maybe you would want a break, chat about something.” His friend ranted,
“You called to see if I would join your little league.”
Silence.
“Alright, call it ulterior motives, who cares. I need you Bruce.”
Bruce’s lips twitched in a smirk,
“For someone who has x-ray vision, you’re pretty transparent yourself.” He commented,
“Please, Bruce.” His friend begged,
“I don’t do teams. I-”
“I work alone, I got that.” Bruce frowned at Clark cutting him off and making fun of him. “You would be such an asset to this.”
“You sound like you’re trying to hire me.”
“This isn’t KFC.”
“No, you’re right. It’s a team of people with metahuman abilities, and then me, a billionaire with access to a very specific nocturnal-inspired designer.”
More silence.
“Do you actually have a designer for your batsuit?” Clark asked him genuinely, his voice softer.
“Goodbye Clark.” Bruce went to hang up his phone.
“Wait!” His friend shouted, Bruce brought the phone back to his ear. “Think about it will you?”
Bruce rolled his eyes,
“Sure.” He lied.
“Really?”
Bruce ended the call, a flat line on Superman’s receiving end that made him groan in frustration, reporters in their cubicles staring at him. He let out a sheepish smile,
“Sorry.”
Bruce sat up and headed over to the training area of his batcave. Blasting some music that was too loud to let him overthink, he put on his black boxing gloves and began to throw some punches.
Clark had been bothering him for a while about some league he was forming. Called it the ‘Justice League’. Bruce internally scoffed at the name, although he guessed that’s what he was fighting for in Gotham, justice for his city.
Bruce threw a hard jab at his boxing dummy, a loud smack echoing in the chamber.
So far he had recruited another alien, a girl with wings and a mace, an ex-military guy with a ring, an annoying ginger who can run fast, and an Amazon.
Bruce’s punches slowed down as he remembered Clark mentioning her. From what he could remember, Clark was really impressed by her; said she was blessed by the Goddesses - whatever that means.
He remembers seeing her picture, long black curly hair and ruby red curved lips. She had a strong figure, but the most feminine and alluring curves he had ever seen. Bruce remembers how taken aback he was by her, but he was a bit skeptical of her in the beginning. He had done his own research on the Amazon and her history, but all that did was grow his fascination about her. She was ruthless in battle, and kind to civilians.
Bruce shook his head of the thoughts, deciding to turn the music up higher. He continued to practice, throwing jabs and hooks until he felt his arms go numb.
He grabbed a towel and exhaustedly collapsed in his chair once again, his breathing laboured and loud.
All of a sudden the largest screen in the centre shone bright with an impending message.
You Have Mail!
It read enthusiastically with a small animated envelope with two eyes, arms, legs, and a large smile pointing at the message.
Bruce frowned, his eyebrows tethered together as he stood up and faced his screen.
“That’s odd.” He whispered to himself, usually when he (or anyone) gets mail they just get a red notification by the application, not a random animation stating they received mail.
He hovered his mouse over the message, hesitant for a moment. With an inhale, he clicked on it, the screen going black for a second before the email appeared.
Dear Batman
Already off to a good start.
I’m sure you are aware of a case involving some murders around Gotham’s hospitals.
His eyes narrowed at the message.
I have information for you.
Information that can prove to be…useful.
All you have to do is play a game.
Play the game, solve the crime.
Win the game, stop the murders.
Bruce’s frown deepened as he continued to read the message. He wondered if he was communicating with the murderer, his body tense.
The rules are simple…
Below was an attached file, Bruce quickly clicked on it.
Immediately a picture popped up, a picture of someone with long black curly hair and ruby red curved lips.
Bruce’s eyes widened slightly, before returning back to slits as he eyes the image.
It was her, the woman that Clark had recruited for his team.
“What does she have to do with this?” He asked himself as he scrolled down.
This, as you may know, is Wonder Woman, a dear friend of Superman.
Your first step is to join the Justice League.
Get to know her.
Then you’ll hear from me.
Just as Bruce finished reading, he received an anonymous file.
He growled quietly, annoyed and feeling like he was losing his high ground.
When he opened it, his jaw clenched.
It was the identity of one of the victims.
Whoever this was, was telling the truth.
Bruce stood still, rereading the email and looking at the files he was sent.
This sender has the information he required, and if he wanted to stop the murders he was going to have to play his game - and win .
He drummed his fingers against his desk, his mind running like an Olympian at what he was just sent. Then he opened up the picture of Wonder Woman again, eyeing her smile.
Bruce grabbed his phone and dialled a number.
“Bruce? Everything okay?” Clark asked his friend. He continued to stare at the picture of the Amazon, trying to figure out how he was going to play this, trying to figure out how she fit in with all of this.
“I’ll join.” He rasped, Clark fell silent.
“Are-are you,” He stuttered, totally shocked by what Bruce just agreed to. “Are you serious right now?” He whispered.
“I am.”
He could feel Clark’s smile from here.
“Bruce, I can’t thank you enough. Seriously.” His friend rambled. Bruce reread the email again, trying to get a feel for how the sender wrote and portrayed himself.
“Text me where you meet up. I’ll be there.”
“Okay will d-” Bruce hung up and tossed his phone on his desk, sitting back down in his own seat.
He opened up the piece of ID he had received and ran it through the G.C.P.D records.
It was time for Batman to get to work.