Batman - Father, Teach Me.. (A Flashpoint Fanfic)

Chapter 2

EARTH 2
It was dark, quiet, hidden, cold. The wind blows softly at the top of the mountain. There was figure of a man. No, he wasn't a man. He's something more, scarier, different. He was just staring at the view, somewhat in a daze.

"Boss" a voice broke the silence "The first phase is done."

"Good." he said, his voice deep and threatening. "In 5 hours, proceed to next phase."

"Then what?"

"Then, we just sit back and watch as this world destroys itself."

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Thomas was at it again. In the day time, if he isn't working in his casino, he would stay downstairs, either brooding or tinkering with his toys. But all his attention was driven to the TV as a breaking news suddenly came in.

'Breaking news! There has been a giant attack happening in The White House. Eye-witness reported to have seen flying demon-like aliens coming from l what seemed like a dimensional portal. All residence of the White House has been safely evacuated. However, the White House's protector, Cyborg has been reported missing after the incident-'

Thomas has heard enough. Cyborg missing exactly after the alien attack at the White House? Obviously something wasn't right. Thomas got up, left whatever he was working on kist now and suited up. He got into the Batmobile and set course to the White House.

After a couple hours drive, he finally reached the crime scene. The White House was damaged and in no condition for anyone to live in. Batman started to look for clues. Then, something caught his eye. An alien-like box. He picked it up carefully, since he doesn't know what this sick thing is capable of. Suddenly, the box lit up and a ray of light bursted out. Everything happened so fast even Batman himself didn't have time to react. The next thing he knew, everything went black.

"Phase two is complete, sire."

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EARTH 1
Bruce walked down in one of the many, many hallways in his mansion. It was a Saturday morning. No Batman, no Wayne Enterprises CEO. Just Bruce Wayne chilling at home, which rarely happens anyway.

Bruce knocked his son's door, calling out his name.

"Damian?"

"What do you want?"

"Come down, breakfast is ready."

"Go away. I'm not hungry."

"Doubt that." Bruce paused for a second, staring at the locked door of his son's room. "It's a Saturday morning. How about a spar after breakfast?"

"Alfred's suggestion I presume?"

"Only some parts of it."

No one said a word until Bruce decided to break the silence.

"I'm not hearing a 'no'." he grinned.

"I'm not saying a 'yes' either. Go away."

"I'll see you downstairs son."

Damian did not answer. He puts down his pencil and placed his sketchbook aside.

"What do you think boy?" he said to his beloved Great Dane, Titus. "Should we play along?"

"Rwarrf!" he barked.

"Yeah. There's nothing else to do today anyway."

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Meanwhile, Thomas woke up, receiving a major headache the moment he opened his eyes. He was sleeping in a dumpster and his Batman costume was beginning to smell like one.

"Urgghh.." he groaned in pain. It was morning, or at least he thinks it is. I mean, there's the sun but he's unsure of the time. He got out of the dumpster he was mysteriously in and started walking slowly, trying not to worsen his piercing headache.

He wasn't familiar of the streets but he is of the smell of the air, a very unpleasant smell at that. It was no doubt Gotham. He recognised the name of the street he was in but it looked nothing like the way he remembered it.

Not having much of a choice, he randomly stopped a man on the streets and started to ask him questions.

"What time is it? Where am I?

"Sheesh ol'man! Slow down. Its 9:30 am. And you're in Gotham. You in a massive hangover or somethin'? What's with the bat costume. If there's anythin' I know of Batman is that he doesn't come out when the sun is up."

"Was there anything unusual yesterday? An alien beam or something?"

"What? No! Though I heard the real Batman took down some secret underground drug-dealers. Made it in the news."

"Drug-dealers? Real Batman?! What the hell is going on?"

"Hey, you alright ol'man?"

Suddenly, Thomas grabbed both of the man's shoulder, showing desperation in his voice. "Where. Is. Wayne Manor?"

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It was crazy. The manor was the same old, wrecked manor he had left. No. It was grand, luxurious, well-taken care of. As if someone has actually been living in it all this time. But who? It sure as hell isn't him.

"What the hell is going on here?" he mumbled, unsure whether he really is awake.

Thomas climbed up the brick wall surrounding the manor's garden. He reached the top but before climbing over, he noticed that the whole garden has traps laying around. So he is left with two options; face those unknown traps head-on, or find a different way in. But how? He thought as he climbed down to his original spot. Then it struck him. Back at his manor, there was an old tunnel at the back of the manor that his ancestors and even him to this day, use as an emergency escape route. The tunnel is connected directly to the wine cellar and he doubt there will be any traps laying around that old place. And if this is the same manor, then there should be the same old tunnel covered in vines at the back of the manor. And he was right.

The tunnel was old and dusty. Thomas was thrown in a coughing fit the moment he stepped in. A few minutes later, he arrived at the wine cellar. Despite it being old and slightly dusty, it was actually quite well-taken care of. He opened the cellar door and started climbing the many, many steps of the stairs. Upon arriving at the main ground floor, he was mesmerised by the condition of the manor. It was not at all as he left it. In fact, it looked just like the way it was before his version of the night at the alley. It was grand. And right now, he was only in the kitchen.

No, he can't afford to get distracted. Some imposter or a villain might be in here. He needs to stay as stealthy as possible. But, the further he went in, the more he felt comfort. A lot of things in the manor was just like the way it was during the happy times in his life. The family portrait at the same place, the furniture still in its newly-liked condition. Everything reminded him of the past and it made him happy. But then, twinge of sadness formed in his heart.

'This isn't real.' he thought. 'It can't be, right?'

Thomas was so lost in his own thoughts while walking that he didn't notice, a small figure appearing infront of him.

He snapped out of his daze as a voice broke the silence.

"Who the hell are you?!" said the voice. Thomas looked infront of him. It was a boy. His skin was tan and he was wearing a black sweater and jeans. His jade-green eyes glaring daggers at him. And he was holding a..  A katana? The black Great Dane beside him wasn't very happy either, barking non-stop. Despite the different little features, Thomas would recognise that boy's face anywhere. At least, he thinks he would.

"Bruce?" he said, quivering.