IF?

Everybody knows what happened when the Wayne family was gunned down that night after the opera, the story of the grief stricken son who grows up remembering his virtuous father and mother seething with the anger of their unnecessary loss only to become Batman.
When a parent dies the child chooses what they remember about that person, they choose to remember all the good and act as if the bad just never happened. Young Mr. Bruce Wayne would have been no exception to this rule; he remembered his father as a great and kind business man and his mother as the very picture of a mother and wife.
But what truths might we have learned if things had not gone as we know they did that night. What if the Wayne’s that Bruce remembered were just a glossy version of what really laid beneath? What if Thomas had chose to act that night instead of bargain and die? What if Batman had not had any reason to become a hero…

“Do you know who I am?” Thomas had been just about to hand his wallet over to the man holding a gun at him when he suddenly felt angry and decided instead to let this punk know who he was fucking with. “Listen scumbag this was not your lucky day you picked a man who knows people I can have you killed for this.”
Martha was terrified by what her husband was saying Tom was a violent man, lord knows she had the bruises to prove it, but he was usually so proper in public… he was usually Thomas in public.
“Vincent Falcone and I are close personal friends and I am not sure who you answer to, but I am going to bet that at some level somewhere Vincent is the one they talk to; and Vincent talks to me.”
“Look man I don’t answer to nobody… but I don’t need no trouble with Mr. Falcone or you… I just… I was just.”
“Yeah I know you were just thinking that you could make a quick buck off of me and my family here. I am going to go out on a limb here and say that thinking never was your strong point!” Thomas stepped towards the man who had put his gun down and was now noticeable terrified.
Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled something out that he kept very concealed, as he got closer to the man he punched him hard in the chest knocking the man down.
“JESUS CHRIST!” Martha shrieked as the man fell. “Thomas what the hell have you done?”
Tom quickly stepped towards his wife and grabbed her by the back of her neck and in a very low voice, almost so low Bruce could not hear it said “shut the fuck up! This man would have killed us, would have killed Bruce would you want that… no so shut up and lets go before someone comes.”
Tom looked down at his son and looked to where Bruce was staring. There laid a man with a small knife sticking out of the front of his chest and blood was starting to pool. Tom thought to himself that knowing right where the heart was had it advantages when you brought a scalpel to a gun fight.
“Lets go Bruce, that was a bad man he was going to hurt your mother and I, and I had to do something about it. But now we have to go, someone will be along shortly and will help him and maybe make him a better man.”
Thomas stood up and patted his son on the head took his wife by the hand lovingly and gave it a little pat as well and then began to walk out of the alley as if nothing had happened. Bruce continued to look back at the man until they had turned out of the alley and were headed to the car where Alfred waited.
The next day the Wayne’s went about their business as if nothing had happened; Martha took off to meet with her friends and talk about one charity or another and Thomas was off to Wayne tower to do whatever it was billionaire doctors turned businessmen do. Bruce was left at home with Alfred, and as of lately that had meant that he was basically left alone; Alfred seemed to make himself scarce when Thomas wasn’t around, Bruce had even heard his mother talking about maybe getting someone else, but then his father had said something about keeping the devil you know rather than the one you don’t.
Bruce spent the first half of his day searching the television channels and newspapers for any mention of the man, trying to see whether in fact someone had saved him, or more likely as Bruce thought the man had been found dead. He could not find anything.
Around noon that day Bruce was startled when someone was still knocking at the door after 5 minutes; usually Alfred would have gotten it. So Bruce decided that he would get it.
“Ah you must be Mr. Bruce Wayne… Is your father home?” It was a red haired man in a very high class looking suite, not quit like the one Thomas would dress in, more like the ones the movie stars on TV wore Bruce thought.
“Nope he is at work, pretty much all day every day, who should I told him stopped by?” Bruce asked very politely.
“Ah aren’t you a good lad, but I think I will wait for him maybe in the study.” The man said as he stepped past Bruce like it had been his own home. “Don’t bother son I know my way.”
As the man stepped past him Bruce finally remembered where he had seen this man before, this was Vincent Falcone he had brought his son here for his father to save about three years ago. In fact Bruce was sure he remembered his father mentioning his name just last night. Bruce wasn’t sure what was going on but he pretty sure it was no mere chance.
As Vincent walked to the study Alfred appeared and offered him a drink, which the man took and disappeared into the study.
“Young Master Wayne you are not to be opening the door, or letting people into this house, is your father home?”
“No he isn’t and you didn’t open the door and weren’t around as usual so I let him in, perhaps you should call my father and let him know, or perhaps I should call him and let him know that you were off somewhere again and that Mr. Falcone let himself in past me and then you yelled at me because you weren’t doing your job!”
“Hmmf…” Alfred stood up straight and looked disapprovingly at Bruce. “I will call your father straight away sir, please go and make your self some lunch.”
Bruce walked past the older man who he had once considered a great friend, who he had once considered a part of his family, but over the last year Alfred had changed. This entire house had changed, his father had gone from a great man all the time to well not such a great man some times. Bruce could hear his mother and father fighting at night, and had even heard his father hit her on more than one occasion. He had heard his father talk about his mother and the fact that she was taking some sort of pills, that his father said made her “a real junkie bitch”, and then there was of course Alfred who couldn’t be counted on for much anymore except to hover around almost anytime Thomas was in the room.
As Bruce was finishing up his lunch he heard his father talking to Mr. Falcone in the hall, he must have come home as soon as Alfred had called. Bruce edged towards the kitchen door to listen.
“Look Mr. Wayne I had nothing to do with that guy. The first I heard was when your guy came in and roughed up my boys today asking questions. I like what we got going her I aint trying to do nothing to screw it up.”
“I believe you Falcone, and my guy believed you too, if I didn’t I wouldn’t need to explain what would happen do I?”
The man who showed up at the door and let himself in was gone now, and now a scared looking version of the man stood shaking his head at Tom.
“Good, so far we have been working great together I think, and I don’t want to have to start over with someone new. Just remember above the surface Wayne Enterprise runs things, and under ground in the slums I run things it is no different other than that there I run things through you.
“You are just a building like my buildings up here if need be I can tear one down and build a new one, it is no big deal for me to get rid of a building that doesn’t meet code anymore.” Tom paused to put his hand on the man’s shoulder. This struck Bruce as funny since he had seen this action done in movies before. “We understand one another right Falcone?”
“Yes Mr. Wayne I understand everything! In the day it is Wayne Enterprise at night it is Wayne Enterprise!”
“Good, now get the fuck out of my house and don’t you ever show up her again without my asking you here or I will send in a building inspector to condemn your ass so quick you won’t know what the fuck hit you.”
It was as Tom shoved the man out the front door that Bruce caught a glimpse of Alfred huddled at a door that led into the library doing much the same as he was. Before Bruce could see much more Thomas was opening the door to the kitchen to see Bruce staring a cross the hall.
“What are you doing kido?” Thomas asked as he looked over to the library door just in time to see a figure move away from the door that was slightly ajar.
“I was eating lunch when I heard you talking to that man that was the man from that night wasn’t it, the one who brought you that kid that was hurt.” Bruce said as he got up and backed away from his dad slightly.
Thomas smiled at him, he had always thought that Bruce had been watching that night, but had also thought it might have been Alfred,
“Yes Bruce it was his name is Vincent Falcone, that boy was his son. He is a friend of mine.” Thomas stepped around Bruce and made himself a sandwich from the things Bruce had not put away.
“You didn’t talk to him like a friend dad; you were kind of mean to him actually.” Bruce sat at the counter near where his father was making his sandwich.
“Well Bruce, as you get older you will find out that some friends are different than other friends. This friend is someone that…” Thomas paused and looked around, not seeing Alfred he continued. “Someone that works for me, but not like the other people you have met. This one is a secret, he does work for your dad that a lot of people can’t, or rather won’t do.”
“So he isn’t like Alfred?”
“NO NOTHING!” Thomas had to pause and regain his composure a little, he snapped a little too harshly at Bruce. As with the very few other times lately that he had done this he was astounded to see that Bruce had not even flinched, this made him smile. “You see son Alfred, well Alfred is different.” He again stopped and looked around, and this time leaned in a little. “See Bruce I think Alfred works for someone secretly too, but that’s a secret between you and I. You understand what I mean don’t you Bruce; I can trust you with this secret can’t I?”
Bruce just nodded, he was more than just a little confused this was an awful lot over the past 24 hours and he wasn’t sure what was going on but all of the sudden everyone was secretly working for someone, but he figured at least he was in on it somewhat.

So the Wayne’s have lived, Bruce didn’t not witness the death of his parents but instead witnessed the death of a low rent thug who’s name he would never even learn. Bruce Wayne instead without even realizing at the age of ten learns that his father is Gotham’s number one crime lord, that in fact he is the secret face of the entire organized crime world throughout most the east cost.


Bruce walked from his graduation from Gotham University eager to never again have to look at a school. He had gone here only because his father had insisted upon it. He had told Bruce that if he had not gone that he would not be allowed to take his rightful place at his side in all of Wayne Enterprises endeavors.
Thomas had also arranged that while Bruce was going to college he got education of a different kind. He had brought master martial artist from around the world to school his son to become more than Thomas was. Bruce would be able to walk into a room without fear that his bodyguards would fail to defend him. Bruce would be able to walk into a room and know that he was the most deadly man in the room for many reasons.
“Ah my son Bruce the Graduate, you have made me very proud.” Thomas leaned forward and kissed his son on the cheek. “And Selina your parents would have been so proud of you.” Thomas kissed the woman on Bruce’s arm on the cheek as well.
Bruce’s stomached always turned a little when his father spoke of Salina’s parents; after all it had been Thomas who had ordered the two to be dealt with after her father had tried prosecuting Thomas for embezzlement about six years ago.
“Salina my dear Alfred will take you home, or to our place if you prefer, Bruce and I have an old secret Wayne family tradition to attend to after we graduate.” Thomas said so politely gesturing to one of the two RR sitting just up the street, where an old man stood with the door open.
“Of course Mr. Wayne.” She turned to Bruce and gave him a kiss. “I will head to Wayne Manor and take a nap I think since your father offered.”
“You know to call me Tom Selina, and if this boy of mine were smart soon you will call me dad..” Tom gave her another kiss on the cheek and she turned towards the cars and was quickly put in and taken away by Alfred.
“Wayne family tradition what are you talking about?”
“Well Bruce there are many different types of families, and since you have up held your end it is time that you take your rightful place in all the Wayne Families.”
They walked towards the second of the two cars, Bruce knew that the one they were getting into was not the same as the other. This was the one that as a younger man he had thought of as the Wayne mobile, his father had special ordered this one; it was bullet proof, bomb proof, and had a couple hidden guns that popped out the sides if need be. Tom Wayne was the undisputed king of the underworld, but that didn’t mean other people didn’t dream.
“Bruce you remember Joe Kerr don’t you, he’s the chemist, you know the prankster.”
“Congratulations Mr. Wayne.” The skinny man standing beside this second car stretched out his hand. Bruce could tell the oversized grin on this mans face was for pure show, this man did not like him, and probably hated his father.
“Yeah I remember you, don’t the boys call you The Red Hood, after a red paint pack blew up in face or something?” Bruce smiled remembering the incident, this was most likely part of the reason this man was driving the car now instead of out actually doing the real work. Bruce also remembered before that incident his father had told him that this guy was one real sick bastard that he killed the people in the bank weather he had to or not.
The man shot Bruce a real twisted look, the kind no person right in there head could really manage.
“Hey I am just ribbing you man calm down, my dad is pretty picky about who he lets drive him around he must trust you good!”
Bruce dipped into the car after his father, and only a hair of a second after his leg was free of the door it was slammed behind him.
“Geesh, that ones got problems!”
“You will find that a lot of them do Bruce, the ones with the problems are the best ones. But you can’t let them get away with shit Bruce, if he looks at you like that again you should fucking punch his teeth out. These guys are afraid of me, but they only barley know you. The next one that doesn’t listen when you, tries to fuck with you…” Tom turned and looked at his son dead in the eye. “You pick up a bat and beat his fucking brains out, and then beat the guy next to him for not beating him for you. Ha… ha… they’ll be calling you The Batman, but they’ll damn sure respect you after that!”
Bruce didn’t say much the rest of the car ride. He was left thinking about Joe Kerr, the man was probably a perfectly normal man before he met up with his father, and was turned to crime to make a living. Clearly the “red hood” thing hadn’t done anything for his attitude; Bruce guessed the man was damn near crazy at this point. He thought that a lot of the people that his father knew weren’t so dissimilar from Kerr.

Oswald had been a short fat man with a long straight nose when Bruce first met him, Tom had started to take a more hands on approach to running the crime world and was afraid that someone would come after his son. Oswald had only one job and that was to watch Bruce, and keep him out of trouble. Bruce went to the best private schools and there was really no threat of anyone getting to him there, in fact most of the time Oswald was keeping Bruce from causing trouble for himself.
Oswald was a strange son of a bitch to begin with, he walked around mumbling or talking to himself, and always carried a cane or an umbrella with him no matter where they went. Tom was constantly berating the man for something, it seemed no matter what Bruce did wrong, Oswald was to blame. Tom called the man “Waddles” because of the way he kind of rocked back and forth while he walked; and Oswald hated this nickname in fact Bruce was sure he hated everything.
One day Bruce decided to score a little pot from a friend, and apparently wasn’t aware that an overzealous cop was watching. Generally cops weren’t something Bruce had to think about, most of them knew that the Wayne family was off limits, and those that didn’t had short careers. Detective Jim Gordon had missed the memo and arrested Bruce for one count of possession of drugs, and something about selling\receiving them on school property.
Oswald had been in the restroom at the time, and failed to intervene when he came out and saw Bruce being put in the back of the squad car. The charges were dropped by a friendly judge, and the entire incident was erased from the records. Unfortunately for Oswald the judge couldn’t erase the facts from Tom’s head.
Oswald was beaten to the point of death and dumped in the city’s sewer system. He had been left for dead, and Bruce had watched as his father told him that this was how you dealt with people who couldn’t do a job right. Bruce had assumed that they had killed poor Oswald, but they hadn’t.
About a year later Oswald had shown up on the news; he had attacked a popular judge and had been caught. The news had a hay-day with him, He had become more of a creature than a man at this point, his long nose was now cricked and his skin was pale and almost looked rotten in some places. Oswald had found a tuxedo in the sewers somewhere and an umbrella that he waved wildly at the arresting officers. They eventually took him down and he was sent to an asylum for the criminally insane.
Bruce remembered his father laughing as the news dubbed Oswald “The Penguin” because of his walk and the way he now kind of squawked rather than really talking. Bruce remembered thinking that this was a man he hoped never got out, because this man knew them, knew their house their lives; it would be easy for him to get close to him.

“We are here son, time for you to earn a stripe or two on that shoulder of yours.” Tom was getting out of the car already; Bruce had been daydreaming a little deeper than he had thought.
Bruce followed his father out of the car and into a very old run down factory that still had a sign that said Wayne Enterprise; the building had been old when his father had bought it, on the door another sign read condemned keep out. This was one of his fathers many building he had around the city that belonged to him during the day but were used usually at night.
“Bruce this is John and Mary Grayson, they own a local circus.” Tom was referring to a couple that were bounded and gagged, and chained to chairs.
Bruce recognized the two, he had seen their shows more than once, they were the mother and father part of a family acrobatic team. Bruce wondered how they had managed to cross his father.
“These two don’t think they need to pay us Bruce, they think that they are better than everyone else in town and can spit in your fathers face!” Tom walked up to the man and spit in his face to give extra weight to what he was saying.
Bruce had known about this activity and even seen more than one man killed or beaten over the years, but they had always been bad people. These were not bad people these were a mother and father, they were circus people for god sakes; and Bruce had a suspicion that he was not just here to watch.
“Bruce in a family when someone is owed money and doesn’t get the money it hurts everyone. See Bruce when Mr. Circus Clown and his slut wife here don’t pay me, I can’t pay Mr. Kerr and that isn’t fair is it Mt. Kerr.” Tom was pacing around the tied up couple who where twitching and grunting against their situation.
“That’s right boss, and I got a kid to feed.” Joe laughed as he said this.
Bruce highly doubted that the little amount that these two were expected to pay made any difference as to weather his father paid Joe.
“See Bruce he has kids!” His father picked up a black baseball bat and handed it to Bruce. “Please teach Mr. and Mrs. Clown why they should pay your father when he tells them to pay him.” Tom handed the bat to Bruce and then walked out of the building, presumably to go sit in the car until the job was done.
Only Bruce and Joe remained in the building, or at least that Bruce could see. There was only a single bulb burning in this giant room and there could be more people in other rooms.
“So what am I suppose to do here?” Bruce asked Joe.
“Play baseball man, make them wish they had paid your father.” Joe had a freakishly big grin on his face.
“Kill them?” Bruce swallowed hard.
“Of course you kill them, or is the little college boy not up to it?”
Bruce wished he could take the bat to this smug sick son of a bitch instead, but his father was expecting him to deal with the two in front of him, and his father hadn’t said kill them, Bruce remembered that his father had said Joe liked to kill everyone.
Instead Bruce walked up to the woman first, both were struggling even more after hearing the exchange and their deaths being ordered. Bruce pulled back as far as he could and swung the bat into her shins as hard as he could.
The bone crunching sound of snapping limbs was sickening, Bruce almost vomited right there. He tried desperately to keep it down and stay on his feet, so that Joe or anyone else wouldn’t know. The woman squealed in pain against her gag and the man trashed even harder now.
“Yeah man that’s it break em’ up bit by bit, your one real sick fuck man.” There was way to much joy in the mans voice for Bruce to handle.
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up Red Hood before I cave your fucking smiling face in!” Bruce didn’t want to have to deal with this man as well as the current task. If Bruce had his way he would be dumping this man into a sewer somewhere very soon.
Bruce raised the bat again and smashed it down onto her upper legs, this time there wasn’t the same sound, the bones in her upper legs were much thicker and it took another smash before the broke as well. The whole time Joe stood in the back laughing under his breath and Bruce was trying to not vomit.
After the last hit the woman had passed out or gone into shock because she wasn’t moving anymore. Bruce moved to the man, this was to much, but it had to be done. He raised the bat and brought it down four times before the larger upper leg bones of the man broke. Bruce had hoped that this would cause the man to go into shock before he started on the shins. He had not been so lucky, and two swings later the shins there were shin bones sticking out the side of the mans legs.
Bruce threw the bat just missing Joe’s head. “That’s it, my father didn’t say kill them, and I am guessing that they have learned their lessons!” Bruce hurried outside he had to get some fresh air.
As he knelt out side in the air trying still to keep his food down he heard six shots ring out. He knew that Joe had gone ahead and shot the two, even though he had not told him to.
“Ahh my son, very nice.” Thomas approached Bruce and put an arm around him. “Don’t worry that you didn’t finish, that is what we have people like him for. That is what keeps us separate from them they are animals.”
Bruce always hated when his father used his “Thomas voice” when talking about these types of things, it was more than weird to him.
“Now lets go you have a pretty girl and a mother waiting at home for us.”
Someone else drove the car home, and Bruce was more than grateful, he was not sure that he could handle another second of Joe’s smiling face.

So what is left of the Bruce Wayne we thought we knew, what of the Batman that should have been. Clearly Bruce is not the cold hearted killer that Joe Kerr is, but is there anything left of the man that should have been? Is there any hope for Gotham left, it would seem that Batman has become a mobster with a bat instead…

The next day the news was on fire with the story of the double murder and the fact that a man had been caught disposing the bodies. It seemed that a detective on his way home had seen a man dragging a large bag to the rivers edge and had stopped to check it out. They were still looking for the body of Mary Grayson , but Detective Gordon was able to stop the man before he got rid of the body of her husband John.
The trial that started a week later was a circus itself. Mr. Kerr was represented by the best lawyer money could buy; Harvey Dent had been a member of the “Wayne Family” ever since he had gotten Bruce out of trouble in high school, and the same friendly judge sat on the bench in this trial as well though he bore a few scars from an attach a few years back.
The trial lasted only two weeks, with almost every piece of evidence being deemed inadmissible for any number of reasons. The jury in the end voted 8-4 “Not Guilty”.
Bruce was in the court room almost everyday, against his father’s wishes. He had hoped like hell that his father would fail to save this man, and that the jury would lock him up for life, but then of course the jury was bought and paid for as well.
“Well Mr. Kerr I suppose you are allowed to go, this court has no other reason to hold you.” There was almost a wink in the voice of the judge as he gave the orders to release the prisoner.
Harvey and Joe were to busy congratulating one another over winning a fixed game, and the other lawyers were to busy shaking their heads at the amazingly obvious fixed fight they had just loss to notice a young man running towards the defendants table. Bruce noticed, but also recognized the young man as the last remaining member of the Grayson family.
Dick Grayson pulled a black bottle out of his pocket and sprayed a liquid at Harvey and Joe before they even realized he was there. Harvey took the brunt of it getting almost one entire half of his face drenched in acid, Joe was somewhat luckier and only splashes of what came off of Harvey hit him.
Dick was wrestled to the ground as Harvey screamed in agony, and Joe covered his face with his hands. Bruce just watched as the boy was hauled out of the court room screaming at the two men. Bruce wished he had brought a machine gun instead of a bottle of acid.
Harvey was rushed to hospital, while Joe refused to be helped, his face looked like someone with leprosy, but he only wanted to be let out of the court room, which they eventually allowed him to do.
“You tell your father to leave that kid alone!”
Bruce was caught off guard as he walked out of the court room and was grabbed on the arm by well built older cop with a very thick mustache.
“excuse me?” Bruce wrenched his arm from the mans grip.
“I know Harvey and Joe work for you and your father, I know more than you think. And I am telling you now you tell your father what happened here today was less than they should have gotten.”
Bruce recognized the man now, it was Gordon the cop who had tried to arrest him as kid and had just by chance managed to catch Joe.
“Well Detective Gordon you will have to forgive me, but I do not think Mr. Kerr works for my father at all. Mr. Dent however has been a trusted family friend… well since you tried to pin that pot charge to me.”
“Look kid I don’t expect you to admit to anything here, I aint even trying to trip you up, that kid today he is their son, all I am asking you is to tell me you and your father aren’t going to try to do nothing to him.”
Bruce saw the fight drain out of this cop, and realized that he really was just worried about the kid. Bruce could still hear the cracking sound of their legs as he smashed them.
“The kid will be fine, as far as I am concerned Joe would have been better off dead.” Bruce dropped his eyes a little, he was still not comfortable with what had happened that night; in fact he had not gotten a good night sleep since that night.
“So the old man might be right then, there may still be hope for you yet. You just remember Bruce I am watching you, and your father and sooner or later I am going to be able to close the net. It will be up to you weather you are in that net or not.” Gordon turned and walked away.
Bruce wondered what he meant by the fact that there was hope for him yet, and who was the old man? He didn’t have time for this, he had to go to see his father, he would want an account of what had happened, and he needed to make sure the kid wouldn’t be harmed.
When Bruce got to the car Alfred held the door open for him. “If you ask me, and I know you don’t anymore, but they both got what they had coming to them!” Alfred did not look down at Bruce as he sat into the car.
“In this one Alfred I am prone to agree with you, I need to get to Wayne Tower immediately.”
To be continued...