I miss you.

Chapter One: A change

Bruce stood on the balcony off the top floor of his manor, gazing down at the grey and dismal streets of Gotham in the distance. The rooftops were blanketed in thick fog, and the air was crisp and bitterly cold. Bruce shivered and leaned over the metal railing, scrutinizing the city for any sign of trouble. He had been incredibly bored this week. It wasn't that he wanted trouble with any of the criminals that ran rampant through the streets; in fact, the batman was greatly pleased by the seemingly toned-down state of Gotham. Still, with crime rates slowing, the billionaire found himself a bit restless, and wondered when he might finally get some action. He was sick of attending company business meetings and events 24/7. Bruce sighed and went back inside, closing the glass door behind him.

The manor was warm; much warmer than it had been outside. The fire roared in the living room, and Bruce sat in the velvet chair cupping his hands over the flame. When Alfred entered the room with a cup of black coffee and some biscuits for his closest friend and employer, he couldn't help but notice the lust in the batman's eye for something other than the arid, routine and expected life of his alter ego.

"Excuse the intrusion," Alfred started, "but what's eating you, sir? All week, you've been so... would 'uninteresed' be the word I'm looking for? Listless, perhaps?..."

Bruce only shook his head. He didn't need Alfred worked up about it.

"It's fine, Alfred," he said in a low voice, picking himself up from the floor and taking the food from Alfred's hands. He walked through the hall to his bedroom, leaving his butler feeling confused and anxious about the state of his young master.

Bruce sat on the edge of his bed, door locked behind him. He needed time to think. For the first time in his life, the batman felt unmotivated. He was confused and hesitant to admit his own hypocrisy; here he was, the crime-fighting vigilante who's sworn duty was to protect the streets of Gotham, wishing that something would just happen. But why? All his life, he hated crime. He fought for justice. And yet, this week, as much as it hurt him to admit it, he kind of wanted someone to just go crazy and kill someone so he could do something, anything other than conducting business with Wayne Enterprises and being left alone with his brooding thoughts.

The weeks soon turned into months of stillness. The streets were completely peaceful and devoid of fear. The Batman took notice of this and began to worry for his own state. He realised that without crime, there was no Batman; and without Batman, there was no Bruce Wayne. All his life he'd been training and fighting to become who he was today. Was it all for nothing?

One day, Bruce stood on his balcony, looking over that same city of his, strangely quiet and peacefully basking in the dim September light. Bruce knew something was off about this, but he just couldn't pinpoint it. No crime in Gotham? For months? It was completely unheard of! Someone was behind this. Could it have been Bruce himself? No, it couldn't be, the man thought modestly. True, it had been his goal to bring peace to the streets since he was only a young boy, but this was too...sudden. It was strange, almost surreal. Like the city was alive and bright and oozing with its usual sickness one night, and then the next morning, he'd found it'd died in its sleep. Yes, this was different. Someone was trying to lure the Batman into a false sense of security, and he wasn't going to have it.

Bruce spent the rest of that day brooding away thoughtfully to Alfred. After decades of experience with the man's excessive detective work, the butler was hard to phase; but now, even he was painfully aware of the fake, dreadful smile plastered over the city. It was like a mask that only had to be pulled away to reveal the chaos underneath, and needless to say, he was worried now, too. A week was one thing. Months? Now that was frightening.

"What is it with me, Alfred?" Bruce asked rhetorically. "What is it that makes me long for chaos if that's what I've been trying to stop this whole time?" Bruce paced the room, his eyes shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, sir," Alfred said, "I'm afraid a crime-fighter is who you've been for years now. Without crime and chaos, you don't serve a purpose,"he smirked. " Could it be you're just afraid of abandonment? " Bruce shook his head in response.

"No, Alfred... you're wrong. Something terrible is coming. I don't want it to, but it is. This city is hiding, and if I don't keep watching, I'm going to miss it." The billionaire bit at his nails nervously. He hadn't lost his cool under pressure in quite some time, but somehow, when crime rates were still high, he felt less overwhelmed. Now since they were down, all he could do was wait, and he hated that. He was going to get to the bottom of this, and he was going to do it now.