Batman for hire

This was more complicated than William had imagined.

Stuart had lost all his memories, including those of Bruce and the Wayne Family.

William had to explain everything, starting with the origins of Crime Alley, with Commissioner Gordon filling in some of the details.

The good news was that Stuart had accepted that he was Bruce Wayne. Otherwise, William really had no evidence to offer.

"So my parents already... when I was eight."

Stuart broke off and covered his face with both hands.

In a sense, forgetting had been a form of salvation for Bruce, but William had dragged him back into the abyss of reality.

But he had no choice. Gotham still needed Batman, and so did William.

"I'm sorry, Stuart. If you need to cry..."

But Stuart merely yawned.

"Hmm? What did you just say?"

There was no sadness on his face.

He wasn't putting on a brave face. Though he had rationally accepted the truth, he still couldn't see himself and Bruce as the same person, much less connect with him emotionally.

William's system reflected that, too.

-the mission hadn't been completed.

Still, William saw a glimmer of hope. After all, Stuart had accepted reality.

He struck while the iron was hot and made his request:

"But I hope you'll continue being Batman. It'll help you recover your memories."

"You mean it'll help you."

Stuart finished changing, turned his head, and gave William a cold smile.

"In these past few months of surviving in the Slums, I've learned something: beware of people who show you kindness for no reason. There's usually something terrible behind it."

"What exactly are you after, asking me to put that tight suit back on?"

Since the conversation had reached this point, William decided to lay his cards on the table.

He told Stuart about Alfred the butler's disappearance and his suspicions that Wayne Enterprises was being controlled.

"This unidentified force is now threatening both me and Commissioner Gordon. Batman-or rather, Bruce-is the only person they fear. Showing yourself could disrupt their plans."

"And put me in the line of fire."

Stuart added that point.

"Their plan already worked once. What makes you think they won't use a similar method against me again?"

William was momentarily speechless.

He hadn't expected Bruce's personality to change so drastically after losing his memory. The old Batman would never have spoken about weighing the costs and benefits like this.

"Don't you want to take back everything you've lost?"

"I do, but that doesn't necessarily mean working with you. Or, to put it more brutally, you could be my bait, luring out the enemy behind all this with your blood and your lives."

Stuart's smile deepened. He turned around, his piercing gaze seeming to bore straight through William's soul.

William took a deep breath.

At this point, there was only one move left.

"Name your price."

Sure enough, that worked. Stuart dropped his cold smile.

"My rates are high. Are you prepared for that?"

He slowly held up two fingers.

Two hundred thousand dollars?

William bit his fingernail as he calculated how much money remained in the suitcase.

I can't spend all that money on Batman. If Maroni asks me to do a job and I don't have any startup funds, I'll be in trouble.

"Two hundred dollars a night. As long as I put on that damned tight suit, you pay me, whether I fight crime or not!" Stuart named the price he had in mind.

"That's way too expensive..."

Gordon tried to haggle, but an excited William clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Two hundred. Deal!"

"It's all right. Sooner or later, he'll regain his memories, along with his original convictions and sense of responsibility."

William tried to brainwash himself as he handed over the two hundred dollars.

Though he still had plenty of savings, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was a terrible use of his money.

Paying Bruce Wayne to play Batman-what kind of deranged plot twist was this?

"Those bills have consecutive serial numbers. Maybe you've got more stashed away. Maybe you're not as clean as you look."

As William took the money from his wallet, Stuart's gaze swept over the serial numbers on the stack of bills.

When William denied it, Stuart chose to needle him with a string of cutting remarks.

"This is your apartment, and Gordon's already gone. There's nothing we can't talk about! Think about it. If you want to work with me, your best bet is to be honest... I hear every Gotham cop has some gang connections. Who's backing you, Falcone or Maroni?"

William was on the verge of losing it. How could this guy have such an awful personality?

But his glare did nothing to rein Stuart in.

"Maybe you could introduce me to the gangs, too. My rates..."

"Enough, Stuart! Shut your mouth! Fucking shut up!!"

The thought of having this guy as his roommate for the foreseeable future made William want to die.

Stuart finally shut up.

William sat on the bedside table and calmed down for a while, then reluctantly took the Batsuit out of the wardrobe.

He had once eagerly anticipated this moment, seeing Bruce put on the Batsuit. Now, though, handing this sacred gear to Stuart at a time like this felt like the ultimate desecration of Batman.

But he had no choice. They had an operation in the early hours of the morning.

"Try it on."

"No need. Leave it there. I'll put it on before we head out."

Stuart felt an instinctive aversion to the gear.

He had lost most of his memories, but he clearly remembered the helplessness he had felt while drifting down the Gotham River, the waterlogged gear dragging him toward the bottom.

If it weren't for the money, he truly wouldn't have wanted to touch it again.

William didn't insist. He brushed off the bedsheet and lay down.

As for Stuart, he could sleep wherever he wanted. William was a deep sleeper anyway.

Half asleep, William heard a rhythmic bass pounding from upstairs.

Boom-ts, boom-ts!

Boom-ts, boom-ts!

Boom-ts, boom-ts...

That bastard again!

He smacked his lips and rolled over.

A lunatic who liked blasting heavy metal in the early hours lived upstairs. William had considered knocking on his door a few days earlier, but then he'd remembered that this was Gotham City, a place positively overflowing with remarkable people. He might well be greeted by a loaded double-barreled shotgun.

Bang!

A door suddenly slammed inside the apartment. William's eyes flew open, and it took him a few seconds to remember that he now had a roommate.

But what's he going out for at this hour?

Before he could work it out, a scream came from upstairs.

Bang-!

Crash!

A gunshot, the sound of shattering glass, and a screaming dark figure flashed past the window.

A heavy impact followed, and the car below erupted into a shrill alarm.

Wide awake now, William pushed open the window and looked down. A figure was writhing and wailing on the car's caved-in roof.

"Stuart..."

"I'm here."

William had murmured the name to himself, but a ghostly reply came from the corner.

He whipped around. Stuart was lounging comfortably in the wooden chair in the corner, arms folded, the pad of his index finger tapping slowly against the armrest.

It was as though he had never left the room.