Thomas, the legacy of the Wayne name. Heir to the throne of power, to Wayne Enterprises, and to Batman.
One misstep. One bad day. The spiral of events leading to the downfall of the Batfamily and so much more. Only one man left standing, only one pr...
Barbara Gordon was walking through one of the wooden hallways in Wayne Manor, one of the older parts of the estate.
She stopped, leaning forward to knock on a wooden door. There was no answer for a minute or two, until the door slowly swung open.
Barbara almost gasped. The man at the door. He was old, with thinning white hair and a stubble beard. He stood tall, in a wrinkled suit.
His eyes changed when he found her, and then it was his turn to almost gasp, "Ms. Gordon?"
"Alfred, hi. Can I come in? We need to talk."
"Yes, we do. What happened to you? That brace you're wearing, I don't remember you needing that. Then again, I don't get out much anymore."
They sat down in a spare room. It was made from wood and stone, and the other furniture in the room was covered in white tarps.
Alfred had made them tea and was sitting at a small wooden table where Barbara was. She sat there, rubbing her fingers over her glass, "how is he?"
"The same, broken back, broken spirit. But physically, he's getting better. I'm more worried about you. What happened to you?"
Barbara paused, looking between her tea and the strange case of deja vu in front of her, "there's a lot I should catch you up on. But at the end of it I need a favor."
"Anything for you, Ms. Gordon."
By the end of it, the tea cups were empty, and Alfred's eyes were tearful, "I missed so much. I... I have no words. I'm so sorry. If I had known Thomas was left alone... I was under the impression you all were caring for him."
Barbara put her hand on his, "it's in the past, Alfred, there's nothing you could do. But there is something we can do about the future."
"What? I'll do anything to help make it all right."
***
Wayne Tower glowed at night. The giant white letters on the side of the building, lit up in a teal blue. And the office lights from behind every window.
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At the very top, a purple suited man looked over the railing at the city in front of him.
All of Gotham. At his lack of mercy. It was enough to make him laugh. A hysterical and maniacal laugh that carried for miles.
***
On the ground level, Nightwing was driving his motorcycle through town. As he tore down Grand Avenue, the rioting criminals turned to look at him, seeing how urgent he looked.
As he pulled up to Wayne Tower, he saw more rioters smashing into the sides of the building. Flares and bats and blades, all trying to break into the bulletproof windows Thomas Wayne had installed.
