1. This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies. Learn More.

Batman: Eternal: Season 2, Episode One - Memories

by Mockingchu

Mockingchu Batman is back. In this episode, he glosses over memories of the past... and learns how to deal with the present.
@Eeveechu151 @33v33_lover I've been waiting to post this for a while, because I finished writing it back in November. But I had to put some sort of break between seasons.
Batman dropped down from above, and kicked the automatic rifle out of the thug’s hands. He whirled around, and dropped two other crooks with swift kicks to the chest. He flung Batarangs at the last remaining criminals. They shot back through the air, and were pinned against the wall. Batman seemed to glide over to them.
“Please! Don’t do it!” one of the pinned criminals sobbed.
Batman held a Batarang up, and put it over a blowtorch. The criminals began to shriek, and squeeze their eyes shut.
“God, Bruce, why do you do this?” Alfred asked over the comms.
“It’s time for the crime to stop,” Batman growled.
“But this is not the way to go about cleaning up the city,” Alfred shot back, “You were doing it right before…”
Batman didn’t respond. Instead, he took the red-hot Batarang, and pressed it against the criminals’ arms. They cried out, and fainted. Batman grappled away.

“You know that there was nothing you could do to save Oswald,” Alfred argued, whilst handing Bruce a plate of lasagna, “If you had fought Deathstroke, I’d be dead in Oswald’s place. And Deathstroke would’ve surely managed to kill Oswald as well.”
“This isn’t about Oswald,” Bruce grunted, pushing the plate away. That statement was partially true. Barbara’s death had kicked this spiral into darkness off. Then Nightwing ran off. To top it all off, Deathstroke slaughtered Oswald. All of that together had driven Bruce down a dark path.
“I don’t believe you. This, ahem, harsher version of the Batman only came out after he died,” Alfred pointed out.
“He died because I wasn’t able to take down Black Mask and Deathstroke,” Bruce countered, “I go too easy. If I let the criminals get off easy, they come back. They’re like weeds.”
“So branding them is going to change that?” Alfred asked.
“Crime reports would suggest so,” Bruce nodded.
“Bruce, I’m worried about what this is doing to your mental health,” Alfred said, kneeling next to Bruce.
“I’m fine, Alfred,” Bruce sighed. He stood up, and walked away. Alfred watched, forlorn.
Bruce headed to his room, and shut the door behind him. He sat down on his empty king sized bed, and glanced around his massive room. On his brown bedside table, there was a picture of Dick Grayson with Jason Todd. Back before Jason died. Bruce clenched his jaw upon remembering the death of Jason Todd. Because with Jason’s death, there was something he could’ve done.

“Bruce, you know that we need to catch Joker before he gets to Mayor Hill!” Jason Todd said.
“But Hugo Strange knows my identity,” Bruce said, suiting up, “And if he reveals who I am… than this is all over. If I’m exposed, I won’t be able to stop Joker anyways.”
“Bruce, Joker is going to kill the mayor! That’s a bit more important than your identity!” Jason asserted.
“If it’s so important to you, go find Joker yourself,” Bruce said in a brief moment of annoyance.
“Fine! I will!” Jason huffed. He stormed off.
Bruce finished suiting up, and got in the Batmobile. He sped off to defeat Hugo Strange and his goons. Meanwhile, Jason Todd had suited up as Robin, and was riding on his motorcycle to go intercept the Joker. Surely he wouldn’t be too much trouble without his cronies to back him up…
Robin contacted Barbara Gordon, or Oracle as she was known on the team.
“Oracle, can you locate Joker?” Robin asked.
“I’ll work on it. Running facial recognition citywide right now. Hold on, why are you calling, and not Batman?” Oracle inquired.
“We split up,” Robin explained, “He’s taking on Hugo Strange. I’m going to get the Joker. Luckily, the Joker is alone. I can take him.”
“I don’t like this, Jason,” Oracle said, “Are you sure you’re prepared to take on Joker? You’ve only been Robin for just over a year. Let me call Dick.”
“Don’t,” Robin shook his head, “He’s got enough on his plate with all of that stuff with Raptor.”
“Then let me help you,” Oracle said.
“You are helping me,” Robin responded.
“I mean out in the field,” Oracle said.
“You’ve got less training than me!” Robin said, “Look, I’ve got this. Trust me.”
Oracle sighed, “Alright. I’ve found Joker. He’s headed North on Miller Street in a blue Nissan Altima.”
“Thanks, Oracle.”
Robin shut off the comm line, and tapped the small GPS screen between the handlebars on the motorcycle. He programmed it for Miller Street. He followed the directions, and made it to Miller Street in no time. The road was fairly empty, considering it was 10:47 at night. Then, he spotted a blue Altima ahead of him. The Joker. Suddenly, the car pulled off the road, and rolled into the woods that stretched along near the the pavement. There seemed to be a dirt road that Joker was following. Perhaps he had something secret at the end of the road. Robin had to find out. He switched his lights off, and followed stealthily. The car stopped at a shed made of wood and aluminum at the end of the road. Joker stepped out of the car, and walked into the shed. Robin hopped off of his motorcycle, and raced over to the shed. He jumped up, trying to see through small windows near the top of the shed. But Joker was nowhere to be seen. Maybe the shed had some sort of basement?
Robin crept around the side of the shed, and tiptoed through the open door. Then, he felt a crowbar smack across the back of his head. He screamed, and collapsed. Blood spilled out from the back of his head.
“Hiya little birdy,” Joker chuckled, kneeling down. Robin forced himself to roll over. It was then that he saw Joker in all his glory. His ghastly white face had flecks of blood splattered across it. His rose-red lips that stretched up to his ears exploded open as he burst into a fit of laughter. He slicked back his neon green hair, and tossed the bloodstained crowbar he was holding into the air. It twirled around, and landed back in his hand.
“I really gotcha, didn’t I? I get the last laugh! Just like a good joke!” Joker cackled, gleefully. Then he slammed the crowbar down into Robin’s face, knocking several teeth loose. Robin moaned, incapable of even screaming anymore. Joker continued bashing his face in, laughing the entire time. Then, after he had his fun, and Robin’s face was completely disfigured, he placed a grenade in Robin’s bleeding mouth. He yanked the pin out, and pranced off, slamming the shed door shut.
The shed exploded behind him.

Bruce laid down on his bed, trying to clear the memory. He curled up on his bed, and squeezed his eyes shut. But the memories of the dead flooded his mind, regardless of his efforts to shut them out. He finally opened his eyes, and stood up. Maybe a walk would clear his mind. But standing up just made it worse. His eyes passed a picture of him with his parents.

An eight-year old Bruce Wayne skipped alongside his parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne.
“Slow down, Bruce,” Father chuckled, “The show doesn’t start for another fifty minutes.”
“But Father, you know we have to arrive early if we want the good snacks!” Bruce said, “Come on! Let’s hurry up!”
“Bruce, if you just walk at a normal pace, we’ll take a shortcut,” Father compromised, “Then we can get there early, and still walk.”
“Fine,” Bruce said, falling back. He wrapped his arms around Mother, and squeezed tightly. She reached down to rub his head.
“So, Bruce, are you excited?” Mother asked. Bruce shrugged.
“What’s not to be excited about?” Father asked, sarcastically, “It’s really loud singing for hours in another language.”
“Thomas, you were the one who suggested this in the first place,” Mother admonished.
“Only because our friends are going. The Falcones and the Elliots invited us.”
“Is Falcone the fat guy?” Bruce asked.
“Bruce!” Father scolded, “He’s just big-boned.”
“He looks fat to me,” Bruce shrugged. Mother tried to hold in a laugh, but didn’t succeed. She doubled over, laughing.
“Bruce, just don’t say it to his face,” Father said.
A few minutes later, Father led them into an alley.
“Here’s your shortcut,” Father said.
“It’s dark,” Bruce noted, starting to grow scared.
“Oh, we’re fine,” Father said, dismissively.
“Yeah,” came a jittery voice, “You’ll be fine as long as you give me everything you got on ya.”
Father whipped around to see a pencil-thin man holding a Luger. He had a scraggly blond mustache that fell over his lips, and messy strands of hair drifting around on his scalp. His cheeks were sunken, and his eyes were pale and lifeless.
“Okay. Alright,” Father said in a disarming tone, “We’ll give you everything. Just put down the gun.”
“Give me your shit first,” the man ordered.
“Of course. You’re right. Let me get my wallet,” Father nodded. He reached around to his back pocket.
“Don’t try nothin’ tricky!” the man yelled, trying to sound authoritative. But he was terrified. He was robbing the Waynes!
“I won’t try anything tricky,” Father agreed, “Martha, give me your pearls. And your purse.”
Mother nodded, and hurriedly handed her pearl necklace and fancy handbag over to Father. Father passed them onto the crook. The crook opened the handbag, and sifted through it. Father took this opportunity to punch the crook in the face.
“Run!” Father ordered, holding the crook in a headlock. The crook jammed the Luger into Father’s abdomen, and let three bullets tear through his flesh. Father crumpled like wet paper, and the crook took aim at Mother. He fired another three shots, and managed to take her down. He scanned the area for Bruce, but couldn’t find him. He grabbed the wallet out of Father’s pants, and rushed off.
As the crook ran, Bruce, who had crouched behind a trash bin, noticed something. A small scar on the crook’s neck. An identifying mark.

Bruce knelt down by his bedside table that held both the picture of Jason and Dick, along with the one of him with his parents. He ran his finger along the faces of his parents. A tear made its way down Bruce’s face. He wiped the tear away, and stood back up. He turned to face the dresser, which held other pictures. Tim Drake was working intently while Barbara Gordon gave him bunny-ears. It brought a small smile to Bruce’s face. A bittersweet smile. Barbara had been a joyous youth. Killed by Joe Chill. The same man who killed Bruce’s parents. Bruce had thought Chill’s interference with his life had been over when Bruce described Joe Chill’s appearance to the GCPD. But he came back to strike down Batgirl in the attack of the Nobodies. That was eight months ago. Before Joe Chill attacked, Batgirl and Robin had been good friends. Bruce began to remember those times.

“Blackbird is on its way,” Robin said, running a hand over his buzz-cut black hair. He was with Batgirl and Batman. They were all crouched on the roof of an apartment building. The apartment building that killer Arden Jacobs lived in.
“Seriously? You named the drone?” Batgirl laughed, “And you named it ‘Blackbird’?”
“What, I can’t name my creations?” Robin said, defensively.
“But Blackbird? Batman, I think we need to clear something up,” Batgirl said.
“What’s that?” Batman asked.
“Are we a Bat Family or a Bird Family?” Batgirl questioned.
“Har har,” Robin said, unenthusiastically.
“Because I’m pretty sure Robin is trying to make us all into birds,” Batgirl stated.
Batman cracked a grin.
“Look, save your jokes for later,” Robin said, “Blackbird is here.”
A flat, black drone zoomed into view. It was three feet wide, and was equipped with all sorts of tech.
“Alright Blackbird, let’s get you in there,” Robin said, controlling the drone on his cuff.
Blackbird flew over to Arden’s balcony, and used laser beams to cut a small circle out of the sliding glass door. It hovered silently into Arden’s apartment, and scanned the area. It picked up a heat signature behind it. It turned around, and Robin saw Arden on its camera. Arden leapt at Blackbird, and smashed it with a hatchet. He then ran out of the apartment room.
“Come on!” Robin complained, “I just finished that thing!”
“Looks like we’re doing this the old-fashioned way,” Batgirl grinned. She did a flip off the roof, and glided to the ground. Batman leapt off the roof, and glided down next to her. Robin sprang off the roof, landed on Arden’s balcony, and ran inside to grab Blackbird.
On the ground, Arden rushed out of the apartment building, still clutching the hatchet.
“Give up,” Batgirl said, “You’ve lost.”
Arden charged at Batgirl, ignoring her warning
Batman and Batgirl both threw a Batarang at Arden. Batman’s were thinner, and more pointed, while Batgirl’s were rounder, and had more of a spin to them. Both Batarangs hit Arden in his shoulders, knocking him over.
“Told ya,” Batgirl shrugged. She flipped her orange hair, and strutted away.

Bruce smiled. He exited his room, and walked back downstairs.
“I thought you had gone to bed,” Alfred commented, eating the lasagna that he had prepared for Bruce.
“Al, I’m sorry. I’ve been kind of an ass lately,” Bruce admitted.
“I know you’re just trying to cope,” Alfred sighed.
“But this isn’t the way to do,” Bruce said, “You are right, Alfred. Batman is supposed to be an ally to the people, not a demonic presence that brands people. It’s just that with Barbara and Oswald dead, and Nightwing missing…”
“Bruce, you and I both know Nightwing is more than capable of handling himself. As for Barbara, she fought hard. She knew the risks of being Batgirl. And Oswald… He did remarkably well as it is. I mean, he had no formal training. He just showed up and started kicking ass alongside you as the Penguin. It’s just that the life you lead is a dangerous one. Your allies are going to get hurt. And as the last few months have shown, some will die. You just have to get through it. I’ll be here to help you do just that.”
“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said, hugging the elderly man.
  1. 33v33_lover
    Yay, season 2:)
    I can’t wait for the next episode^^
    Jan 13, 2018