Bruce Wayne, dark knight of Ponyville

by ultronquake

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Diamond Tiara, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Romance, Silver Spoon
Length: 52171

Ponyville has changed greatly in fifteen years, most all of the landscape is unrecognizable. But one constant remains, the ponies. After years of training Bruce Wayne is ready to begin his crusade to save the city he calls home.

Bruce Wayne, respected business pony and wealthy socialite secretly fights crime under the mantle of the Batman. Mystery, action, romance and some lighthearted (and sometimes dark) humor all await you in the pages of Bruce Wayne, dark knight of Ponyville.

Cover art done by the very talented Dori-to on Deviantart. If you like the cover please share some of that love with him, he worked hard on it.

Published 2015-08-17 20:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-03-11 20:51:44 UTC

Balancing act

Bruce and Silver Spoon ended up sleeping in well past sunrise, both of them staying up all night took a toll. It was roundabout ten in the morning when he stirred from slumber. Feeling groggy and stiff he made his way downstairs, careful to let Silver keep sleeping. As he rounded the the corner into the dining room he found breakfast and Randolph already waiting for him. "Good morning Master Wayne, I take it you slept well?"

Bruce took his seat at the table, "About as good as I can get, I think I may have thrown my back out a little when I lifted a mugger strait up the side of a building."

"Did you remember to lift with your legs Master Wayne?" asked the butler.

"Randolph we're ponies, we're all legs." Bruce said snidely.

Randolph was not amused, "That's enough lip out of you, one more remark like that and I'm taking your breakfast back to the kitchen."

"Alright old colt, you won't hear anything more out of me." Bruce knew well his manservant's threats were not idle.

Down the steps came Silver Spoon looking just as groggy as her lover, "Morning Randolph, is breakfast-? Oh it is ready." She seemed to perk up upon seeing the silver trays and the table settings, a good breakfast was just what she needed. Silver took her seat across from Bruce and poured some tea from the ornate china pot.

Silver Spoon was served first, Randolph removed the silvered dome covering the plate to reveal an assortment of wild greens and flowers delicately arranged, Silver thanked him and the butler moved on to his master's. With a flourish he removed the cover to reveal pancakes, seven of them, Bruce stared at his butler in awe.

"It occurred to my that you would be famished after your late night excursion, is there, something wrong with pancakes sir?" asked Randolph.

Bruce sighed, he didn't mind the little inside joke from his first day in Ponyville, but a breakfast consisting of nothing but starchy, syrupy cakes was not the ideal way to start the day. 'Maybe if there were some sausages or bacon...' He thought it odd that even after fifteen years of being a pony he still craved the forbidden fruits of cured meats. But food was food and Randolph knew just the right way to make a pancake, not to light and ever so slightly burnt, drowning in real butter, so he dug in.

In between bites he began explaining about his escapades, and how he made some genuine progress, even if it was on a small scale. Deep down Bruce knew that reforming low life thugs was only a small step on the path to a crime free Ponyville, a small but necessary step. If real progress was to be made other changes would have to happen, the mob families being driven out and their leaders brought to justice. And improving the overall living conditions of the tens of thousands of impoverished ponies living in the slums.

At least the later was something he could work on during the day time, one of the ongoing protects of Rich Enterprises was a campaign to renovate or rebuild the worn down areas of Ponyville. As Bruce chewed, Silver remembered something. "I forgot to mention, Diamond Tiara called last night."

Bruce was pleasantly surprised, "Sis called?"

"We talked for a while and shared some gossip. Being out of town for so long she's starting to feel out of the loop." said Silver.

Bruce nodded, "I can imagine, with the games coming up I expect her coaches and trainers are keeping her busy."

"Seems that way, oh she said she read about you in the paper." Silver said offhoofedly.

"Business Weekly?" he asked.

"You think your sister reads a boring old rag like that?" asked Silver.

Bruce felt a little offended, "It's withing the realm of reason, she's a pretty savvy mare."

"No it wasn't Business Weekly, it was the Equestria Enquirer." Silver said while rolling her eyes.

"Princess Twilight's secret U.F.O. abduction foal, Neighstradamus' doomsday prophecies Equestria Enquirer?" asked Bruce, hopeful there was a second magazine by that name.

"One and the same love, I know it's just a gossip magazine full of outlandish stories that only crackpots take seriously. But ponies are starting to take notice of you all the same, it wont be long before actual reporters start writing about Batman." Silver glanced into her tea cup for strength. "All I'm saying is you should be very careful with what you do under the mask."

"I will Silver, I promise." Though he was unsure if he could keep that promise, Bruce could already envision some unsavory things the Batman would be doing soon. Looking across the room at the grandfather clock he saw the face read ten thirty, not that it meant anything in particular. He was a chief executive in the company so coming in late wasn't really an issue. What was an issue was being late for the numerous appointments he had set up with hopeful entrepreneurs.

"I'm afraid I'll have to dash Silver. I'll see you tonight alright?" Bruce said as he snarfed down that last bit of the final pancake.

"Don't forget we're having dinner at the Tiara with Dimple. And if you think your going to run off in the middle to go fight crime then you Will be sleeping on the couch tonight. Understood?" Her eyes were filled with the icy intensity of a mare whose watched one too many of Iron Will's self motivational videos.

"Understood," Bruce kissed her and made his way to the garage, hopped into one of his luxury autos and sped off to work. Across the raised highways he sped along careful to obey the speed limit, he knew he could drive as fast as he wanted at night in his 'other car.' It didn't take long to reach his destination, the illustrious high rise of Rich Enterprises.

The company as it was today only came into existence a few years ago when Bruce was old enough to start working. Before then his father used it as a holding company for 'Barnyard Bargains.' On his eighteenth birthday he was legally able to take the reigns in Filthy's absence. And when he did Bruce made some large changes, restructuring the company into an investment firm, lending out money for new business to get a start.

And it proved successful, so much so to the point that, Rich Enterprises had their hooves in just about every pie in Ponyville. Upon Filthy's return he resumed his position of C.E.O. placing Bruce in charge of investments, much to the chagrin of the employees. He stepped through the tall glass doors into the lobby, nodding to the receptionist and the security guards as he made his way to the elevator.

Floor after floor passed by the glass riser until it stopped on his own. A solitary domain decorated in rich blues and greens, with no actual windows, only murals depicting what Ponyville was before. Bruce felt he did his best work in here, in a comfortable surrounding. On the floor above him was Filthy's office and despite being only a floor away it wasn't very often he made the effort to go there.

It wasn't that their relationship was on the rocks, not in the slightest. Filthy still regarded Bruce as his son and Bruce still regarded Filthy as his father. It's just him being away for so long seemed to add some distance between them. Which is why Bruce was a little startled when his luxurious chair swiveled around to reveal Filthy sitting in it.

"Bruce m'boy, mind if we have a chat?" Filthy hadn't changed much appearance wise, apart from a mane with more salt than pepper he looked just as much like the stereotypical executive as he did fifteen years ago.

"Not at all dad, mind if I take a seat?" Bruce motioned to one of the chairs reserved for interviewees.

Filthy got up, "No no, this is your office. I just felt like giving your chair a spin, for some reason mine has this lump right in the lumbar that- Eh never mind." The pair played a little musical chairs and settled down, Bruce behind his desk and Filthy in front.

"So what did you want to talk about?" asked Bruce.

Filthy reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a fat cigar and lit up, "Nothing much m'boy, nothing much. It just seems we don't talk as much anymore. Back when you were a foal we would spend hours talking, I don't think we've done that since my release."

"It's not by design I assure you," said Bruce, lying through his teeth. "We've just been so busy lately."

"True, you really stepped up in my absence and for that I'm grateful, it validates the trust I had in you back then. But I wanted to know how is your home life?" Home life, that was something Filthy hadn't been privy to in over ten years. And by the time he had been released from the Equestrian minimum security prison, Bruce had been grown and living as his own stallion for several years. Instead of imposing himself on his son Filthy opted to purchase an apartment of his own, besides Filthy was going to leave the manor to his children anyway.

"My home life is fine dad, Silver and I are still going steady and we're quite happy together." said Bruce.

Filthy nodded and blew out a big smoke ring, "Glad to hear that, I always liked that filly. She has a level head, her parents are nice ponies. A bit eccentric but nice nonetheless. So do you have a mare on the side?" Filthy asked in a matter of fact way.

Bruce emphatically said, "No."

"Good, your a one mare kind of stallion like me. You see I only ask because you've been dating for fifteen years and you still haven't put a ring on her." Filthy was not so subtly hinting at something.

"Silver hasn't ever brought it up, if it's something she wants then I'll do it." Bruce said in a roundabout way.

Filthy sighed a little, "Ugh, Celestia give me strength. Stallions waiting for mares to propose, what has the generation come to?" He waited a little and then laughed, Bruce found it funny as well and joined in. At that moment the both of them felt connected once more, not boss and underling but as father and son.

The clock sounded the hour and Bruce realized he had an appointment soon, "Sorry dad I have a full day of ponies coming to plead their case with me starting just a few minuets from now."

Filthy extinguished his cigar and got up, "No I understand, I'll see myself out. But before I go there's something I wanted to ask about, work related."

"Ask away." said Bruce.

'I got hold of a funding request that you denied. I found your explanation vague, mind telling me in person why?" Filthy set down a folder labeled 'Gussepi Cavallo - Nightclub' A standard enough request for capital to create a businesses. The company received hundreds of such each week and Bruce told him so. "Well yes, but the business plan is promising and the planned location is prime."

"I know that, and I have no doubt it could be a smash success, but I had our ponies down in legal do some routine background checking and found this fella has some heavy ties to the Melody family. I wrote the stallion that we would be unable to accept his request and pointed him in the direction of firms with lesser moral scruples. We wouldn't want our company associated with those types of characters would we?" Bruce eyes were dead cold set on his father.

"No, we ah, wouldn't want that would we? You made the right choice son. I'll see myself out now." Filthy entered into the glass elevator and rose up to his own office.

'Unsavory things.' Echoed back at Bruce, there was allot to do before Ponyville could be a crime free city once more.

*****

After a grueling day in the office Bruce didn't much feel up to going out for dinner, or fighting crime for that matter. His duties put a tax on his energy that left him feeling sluggish. But Silver had insisted and they had set up the appointment weeks in advance to work around both of their busy schedules.

The restaurant was about as high class as you could get, Prench chefs, snobbish waiters and a trio of classical musicians playing softly to set the mood. Placed on the top floor of the Tiara the restaurant didn't have a great view, on either side were towering bland skyscrapers that dwarfed the now minuscule hotel. What it lacked in stature the Tiara made up for in class, grand vaulted ceilings, mosaic floors depicting moments of Ponyville's history and three hundred luxury suites that even royalty would be comfortable in.

Completed during the first year of Princess Twilight's reign, it came just in time to house the refugees after the catastrophe. That and it's high end clientele was enough for it to remain untouched by the reconstruction and remain one of the few 'old' buildings in Ponyville. It didn't take long to be seated, one of the perks of being the owners son Bruce supposed. Dimple was already there waiting for the two, a broad smile on his devilish chin. "Bruce! Silver! It's so good to see you both!"

"Dimple, what's it been, a couple of months right?" Bruce asked as he pulled out a chair for his lady.

"Two months or around that, I can't believe how much faster time flies by these days. Nothing like when we were foals for sure." Dimple had changed quite allot since the days of youth, no longer a scrawny pegasus colt with a potty mouth. Nowadays H. Dimple had grown into a successful stallion in his own right with a promising law career ahead of him.

"No nothings quite the same as before." Bruce commented.

Silver Spoon smiled, she felt it would be good for Bruce to be with friends. "So, I've been wondering. Ever since you called us up, do have some big news to share?"

"You can see right through me it seems, I actually do have something to share. Come next election season I'm putting my hat in the ring for district attorney!" The pegasus seemed genuinely exited, "I was hoping when the time came I could count on you for financial assistance with the campaign."

Bruce to was excited, "Well of course you can! You've already made a name for yourself in the prosecutors office, it's a sure bet you'll win the vote! What are you going to use as your platform?"

"Anti corruption and pursuing the high up criminals what else? It's what the ponies really want." Dimple poured a glass of the aged wine on the table.

"I can imagine it now, Hardnose Dimple, district attorney of Ponyville." Dimple cringed.

"Do you have to use my first name Bruce? You of all ponies should understand why I'm uncomfortable about it."

Bruce took the bottle and poured his own and Silver's glasses, "Well you'd better get over it soon buddy, I don't think you'll be allowed to swear in as H."

"I suppose your right buddy, how about a toast? To future success." Dimple held out his glass, Silver and Bruce joined him, "Future success!" The three drank, ate and made merry together. As the night wound on conversation turned from the grand plans to the small town gossip, who was seen leaving who's apartment, rumors of an upcoming Sapphire Shores concert, things of that nature.

Feeling giddy and slightly intoxicated Silver decided to ask about a touchy subject, "So how are you and Apple Bloom doing? I haven't seen you two together in forever."

Bruce who still had a tighter grip on his senses had his heart go out for Dimple, it had been quite the messy breakup. "Dimple, sorry she didn't mean anything by-"

"It's fine buddy, actually it's better than fine. I thought I wrecked things thoroughly with that Sweet Apple Acres fiasco, I was convinced she wouldn't want to see my sorry hide ever again. But about a week ago she came by the prosecutors office saying she wanted to get back together, apparently she just needed some time apart to think about our relationship." Dimple poured another glass in celebration.

"Oh, well that's great news!" said Bruce.

"I hope you two have many happy *hic* memories together *hic.*" Silver had enough to drink but she was still being pleasant.

Bruce leaned in to Dimple and whispered, "We should probably call it a night, do you mind?"

Dimple got the hint, he loudly proclaimed, "I've had such a lovely evening in your company, Silver Spoon always a pleasure. I'm afraid I have to dash, plenty of criminals to prosecute, no rest for the righteous and all that." Just as he was getting up from the table a piercing wail interrupted the room. An all to common sound, police sirens followed by gunfire.

The band stopped playing and everypony took to the windows to get a view, on the street bellow was a armored bank car with it's back doors swung open, a pinstriped thug hanging out the back firing at the two squad cars in pursuit. "Good luck to them I say, those officers are going to need it." Dimple said solemnly.

Bruce was intently following the car's movement for as long as he could, it seemed his plans for the night had been chosen for him. Silver Spoon was watching him Bruce the same intensity, and the same feeling of dread and worry from the night before began taking hold.

Unsavory things.

Author's Note

Anyone else remember the 'National Enquirer?' I never read it but I always looked forward to seeing the headlines when I saw it on the news stands.

It feels good reintroducing these characters, I always felt the original stories strongest suit was in character interaction and I hope that's a trend that will continue on into this story.

More than one pony can handle

Tracking down the stolen black car was not the hard part, the hard part was figuring out how to get it back. The Batman was perched high atop the fourth wall of a building adjacent to the one the car was being held in. From his vantage point he could see into the window, there was the car, cartloads of contraband and at the very least twenty different armed thugs.

He counted five patrolling the roof, five unloading the car, five packing drugs and the last five were in a card game, likely the relief for the outside watch. If there were more inside his thermal vision goggles weren't picking them up. The obvious route of attack would be to take out the roof guard first in hoof to hoof combat then move on to the relaxing thugs. The only problem was what they were packing, from his point he could see at least three carrying heavily modified Fetlock's, or even custom built ones. Ones that dumped the revolving chamber in favor of a big round clip, a longer barrel for increased accuracy.

If they had any decent aim than taking on five at a time would be a death sentence. Not to mention the likelihood of reinforcements, this hidden warehouse was only a few blocks away from more mafia owned interests. Bruce was flummoxed, go in figurative guns a blazing and hope things turn out in his favor. No, even if he were dumb enough to do that, the thought of Silver Spoon grieving over him was enough to halt that progress.

Batman pulled out his grapple and pulled himself higher, onto one of the decorative gargoyles lining the roof. From up there he saw something he couldn't see before hoof, a small nondescript ventilation fan. A scheme started hatching in his brain, but it would still be near impossible on his own. In a carefree way Batman let himself fall off of his perch once he hit terminal velocity he flicked open his cape letting it catch the air.

Silently he descended, until he hit the ground with a roll, Bruce stuck to the shadows carefully avoiding the rooftop guards line of sight. Stowed away from prying eyes he had parked his 'other car', a completely custom job he affectionately called his Batmobile. Using the chaise of a heavy duty truck, solid rubber tires that can't be shot out or punctured and an automatic armored shell that activates whenever anypony tries to pry their way inside.

It was a bit of a passion project for Bruce, meticulously constructing it in the garage of the cave, purchasing the components separately through dummy companies so not to raise any suspicion. He liked to think it had all been worth it, it had cost a veritable fortune to make as well as requiring him to read numerous automotive manuals, but it granted him speed and safety in pursuit that he could never have on hoof.

He fired up the prototype engine and let it fumble for a while, little trails of condensed magic spewing from the tailpipe as it idled. Bruce set the navigation computer to an alleyway not for from the Ponyville police headquarters and took off like a bat out of Tartarus.

*****

It had been a wicked week for Commissioner Oats, ten homicides, more burglaries then he could count and this armored car robbery. To add to the sting, one of the pursuers, a rookie just out of the academy got shot and drove his car strait into a brick wall. Weather the pup would survive the night was up to the overworked staff in the 'Our Lady of Kindness' mercy hospital.

About the only good news that Oats had received the entire week had come just the night before. A mare who had been the victim of a mugging came back into the station to report that her purse had been returned, with all its contents along with a heartfelt apology letter from the thieves. It wasn't very often that something like that happened, but on those rare occurrences it does it helps to rekindle some faith in the equine race.

He was just returning from the decades old coffee percolator with a Styrofoam cup of the bitter beverage in hoof. Oats found himself relying more and more on coffee to help him get through the long nights. During the brief moments in between dispatch calls and interrogations to watch from behind the one way mirrors his mind would wander. Word on the street was Panamare was the place to be, hot tropical climate, white sandy beaches, exotic mares with beautiful plots - of land.

Sometimes Oats would indulge his imagination, him lying down in that warm sand with one of those froofy fruity drinks you see in the menus but never end up trying. But life wouldn't afford him this luxury, in reality or fantasy, one of his lieutenants barged into his office, a dour expression occupying his face. "Wha'dya want?"

"Sorry to interrupt your coffee boss, but I thought you should know. The doctors did all they could, but they couldn't stop the blood loss." Oats saw the police pony had his cap off, a gesture that carried with it a meaning they all knew. Respect for the dead.

"Officer Glitter Glam was a good stallion." Oats said plainly. "Do you know if he had a family?"

The lieutenant was getting choked up, "Just his mom and dad sir *Sniff* I met them at his graduation ceremony. Glitter was their only child."

"Go, take a breather, let it all out." ordered Oats. The lieutenant thanked him and went outside, once more Oats' mind drifted off to his imaginary beach in Panamare, but he wasn't alone there. Glitter was there his mangled face staring at him with those sad puppy dog eyes. Others were there as well, every single officer that had died under his tenure as commissioner. 'Am I just marching these good ponies to an early grave?' Oats felt like a wartime general, ordered to send his platoon out of the trenches and into the noponies land, he felt sick.

Oats shelved the depressing thoughts for a later time, he was on the clock and there was a mountain of paperwork piling up on his desk. As he went to grab the first folder a slip of paper fell out, a note in almost illegible scrawl, a dark brown coffee stain still wet obscured half the writing. It was from his chief detective Bulrush for sure.

'Hey boss, meet me up on the roof, I gotts somthin' to tell you about.' Oats mulled it over, and decided to go. Neglecting the alarm bell going off in his head, Bulrush's desk was just on the other side of the room and his door was always open. But he went anyways, taking along his still steaming cup of coffee and his holstered Fetlock.

The police station roof was unbearably cold with little interesting up there, several four foot ventilation ducts and a disused searchlight. The alarm bells grew louder when Oats didn't immediately see the obese unicorn anywhere. "Bulrush? What was so important that you couldn't talk to me inside my office? I'm freezing my flank off out here!" No reply.

He took two cautious steps out of the door and undid the clasp on the holster. "If this is some kind of prank you can expect a cut in your salary next paycheck." Still the warning tone brought no response, already Oats knew Bulrush wasn't up there. The stallion was about as stealthy as an elephant in a mouse convention, he drew the gun and held it close.

"There's no need for that Fetlock commissioner," said an unfamiliar voice, it was male for sure and cartoonishly masculine at that.

Thoughts raced through the middle aged horse's head, 'Whoever is up here can see me and I can’t see him. I can’t see Bulrush so he's either unconscious, dead or back downstairs. And finally, I didn't tell anypony I was coming up here, so I'm alone.' That last thought worried him the most.

"I think I'll hold onto it just the same, who is it I'm talking too?" Oats tuned his ears, hoping to divine the unseen party's location.

"I'm just a concerned citizen doing his civic duty. The bank car robbery, have you made any progress yet?" There was something off about the voice, but Oats couldn't put his hoof on it.

Oats would play his game if it meant it kept him talking, "None so far, we lost eyes on the car after the pursuers went down."

"What if I told you where you could find the car and something far more important?" The something Oats heard was more defined now, a certain tinny quality, almost as if...

"I'd say that sounds too good to be true, it sounds like your setting me up for a trap." Oats was slowly maneuvering himself around the vents.

"Nopony ever said it wasn't a trap, the armored car, and what I counted as twenty kilos of 'Joke' are all being guarded by a heavily armed group of mafia. I can tell you where to find the warehouse if you like." By now Oats was sure, the sound was the voice echoing off of the vent ducts, the only question was which one?

"Well that's mighty kind of you, but why would you want to share this when you want even talk face to face?" Oats had systematically checked each vent access, all except one. He pulled down the hammer and rounded the last corner to find, nopony. All there that was there was a city map with a back alley circled in red and a two way radio.

"Like I said commissioner, I'm a concerned citizen, I want Ponyville to be a crime free city just like you. The only difference is I'm a bit of a coward, I don't want to be showing my face all around. You're the brave one Oats, I know you'll do the right thing, for officer Glam." Crackled the radio.

Oats snorted angrily, took the radio in hoof and tossed it off the roof to the street below. From his hidden vantage point on a nearby building Batman set down his own radio. He felt guilty over that comment, he had hoped it might have been a motivator but he'd only succeeded in pissing off the pony he hoped to make an ally. With no further way to communicate Batman took off for his ride, back to attempt the incursion on his own. "I shouldn't have tried to involve them in the first place."

Oats was furious, furious and paranoid. This no life voyeur was trying to manipulate him, plain and simple. But he was paranoid all the same, "How did he know about Glam?" He had only just been notified himself a few minutes ago. Oats contemplated tossing the map off the edge as well, but he hesitated. The area highlighted, it was in known Melody territory. And the ponies in the neighborhood had been reporting suspicious behavior.

It was a snap decision he knew, but he felt it was right, he felt it in his gut. 'It wouldn't hurt to send out a plainclothes pony to scout it out, would it? No, of course not. Oats reasoned to himself, "And nopony would bat an eye if I ordered the S.W.A.T team on standby, we've had a high profile incident."

Oats made his way back to the stairwell, his coffee he had set down had already cooled to an icy chill. He poured it out and walked down the steps, seeking out his head detective for an assignment.

Author's Note

Next chapter Batman's assault on the warehouse.

Feel free to suggest some pony names I can use for thugs and cops.

Calvary charge

There was no time to waste, by now the car would be completely unloaded and they would be getting ready to dump it. Not that an armored car was irreplaceable, Bruce knew for a fact the bank they stole it from had three more cars in their fleet. The car itself was important for another reason entirely, if his plan of action was to succeed he would need access to the mobile bunker.

As the Batman Bruce was physically and metaphorically alone on the adjacent rooftop, preparing to take on the largest group he'd ever since starting his crime fighting career. Once he started he would only have a few minutes to get it done and any flaw could mean his demise. Before leaping he took a moment to reflect on what was important to him and to wish that he return home safely to them. With that he buried any trace of hesitation and jumped, five feet, ten feet, fifteen feet, he could feel the wind rushing through the exposed parts of his mane.

Twenty feet, twenty five feet, thirty, He was aiming his trajectory towards the most isolated of the roof guards. Thirty five, forty, forty five, He pulled out a two sided grapple he had prepared before leaping. One of the heads was for embedding in stone, the other was designed to latch onto and wrap around assailants. Five feet from the roof he fired side one, with a resounding *Kathunk* it dug into the bricks. Everypony who wasn't completely deaf heard this and reacted, the Batman's first target raised his gun to fire upon the threat but it was already too late.

The second side fired and the unfortunate thug soon found himself coiled up in steel cable. A second later Batman made contact with the roof and gave a tug on the cable throwing him off the edge, slamming his face into the brick wall knocking him out with the pendulum motion. By that time his four compatriots were well on their way, each one pulling out their modified fetlocks and laying aim on the oversized airborne flying mammal.

Swiftly Bruce took out one of his boomerangs, well balanced and blunted so as not to accidentally kill. It only took a second to aim, he pulled back and let loose. The bat shaped steel soared through the air, it collided with the nearest thugs gun and it scattered somewhere unseen in the dark. With no weapons left he did what any rational pony would, charge at him like a crazy horse. Needless to say it didn't end well, one swift chop to the neck and he was down for the count.

The remaining three who had two brain cells to rub together decided to make use of the deadly weapons in their hooves. Bruce had overestimated their skill by a large margin, two of them were firing continuously instead of in controlled bursts to raise accuracy. The other one seemed to be having trouble holding his gun up and was barely able to stand upright, a heavy drinker he supposed.

Seeing as they only had the two brain cells and no more between them Bruce decided the smartest course of action would be to let them waste all their ammo. He ducked behind a roof vent and took off his cape, throwing it out to the slaughter. Bruce felt a twinge of guilt for doing that, Silver Spoon had spent so much time at the sewing machine making it for him. He had spares, but that wasn't the point, still he reasoned Silver would much prefer him to come home safe rather than the cape.

As the perfectly harmless piece of cloth flittered in the breeze the thugs emptied their oversized clips, riddling the poor cape with holes. After a minute of sustained fire both thugs with the automatic weapons were out of munitions, "*Huff Haw* You think we got him?"

"*Cough Wheeze* We had to have! Spray and pray always works right?" Unknown to either of them their target had snuck right behind them both.

"Sorry to disappoint colts, you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with aim like that." The Batman had a smug look on his face as the two criminals whirled around and tried unsuccessfully to fill him with lead. He ran up and punched them hard with a brass hoof, catching them as they crumpled under their own weight. Now all that was left was-

*BANG*

Bruce could feel something wet on his face, as he dabbed his cheek his hoof came back red with his own blood. Quickly he turned to face the final assailant, the supposed drunkard, he was still railing about. He felt stupid and uneasy, Bruce had been so preoccupied with the others that he just wrote this last thug off as a sure win.

This time he wouldn't take any chances, Bruce leaped across to him and tackled him to the ground, ripped the gun from his wavering hooves and tossed it aside. Up close he could smell the gin on his breath and see the way his eyes haphazardly lolled around their sockets. This brought some reassurance to Bruce, he was drunk, and he had only gotten very very lucky. A few seconds in a choke hold and he was sleeping like an inebriated log.

It was just in time as well, he could hear more hoofsteps racing up the metal staircase, up to the roof access. Bruce quickly searched for a discarded gun to bar the door with. With that done he then set forth to the second phase of the plan, he procured several objects from his belt of holding. At a feverish pace he unscrewed the housing of the ventilation fan picked up the machinery itself and flipped it around. By now the hoofsteps had reached the barred door, slamming their weight against it in vain.

"I'll be with you fine folk in just a minute," Bruce said in a mocking tone. Next he took three round objects from a pouch on his belt, twisted the tops to slightly different increments and set them down in front of the reversed fan. With all the preparations complete all that was left was to jump.

The skylight wasn't safety glass, it was an old pane of cheap tempered, rather than jump through and risk cutting an artery, Bruce went with the safer option. Using the butt of the other discarded gun he busted out the frosted glass and dove into the hailfire of bullets.

*****

Detective Bulrush, police officer and public servant. He and Oats were the only officers on the force from before the calamity and that seniority allowed him kush jobs like tonight's. All alone in an unmarked car in a dank alleyway watching a boring warehouse all night, yeah real kush.

At the moment he was just finishing off the butt of his twenty first cigarette, as he exhaled the putrid smoke he placed the filtered end in with the others. He didn't normally chain smoke like this, but this was a publicly owned vehicle and he felt like spiting somepony. He had also driven through a Hayburgers and ordered the sauciest and most greasy 'food' items on their menu. The wrappers were strewn all about, little bits of oil based cheese were getting into the upholstery, and somepony was going to have one heck of a time cleaning this rig.

Bulrush fished out another cigarette from the pack and lit up, with all the windows rolled up the unmarked car was more like a private smokers lounge. He was feeling uncharacteristically introspective that night, thoughts about how his life would have turned out if he had been playing for the other team. He let himself ponder aloud, "What's gonna do me in sooner? These ciggs or this job?"

For a brief moment he considered going for the flask in his trench coat pocket used to bury these feelings when they came up. But he decided against it, even if it was a s*#@ assignment, he was on duty. Still, it was too boring sitting alone in the car all night, if he couldn't drink he could at least talk. Using his horn he levitated the dispatch radio up to his face and called in, "Hey Watch you workin' tonight tuts?"

The crackly static of the speaker was silent for a bit then the reply came, "You bet your flank I'm working, and don't call me 'Tuts' you oaf." The voice was distinctly feminine and assertive, belonging to a mare anypony working the nights in Ponyville could recognize. Vigilant Watch, a dispatcher well renowned for her efficiency and short temper.

"Wat?! Tuts ain't good nuf' fo youz? You want's me to call youz sugga tits instead?" Bulrush was trying his best to imitate the stereotypical construction stallion and their crude sexism, though to a pony unfamiliar with him they may have thought he was serious.

"*Sigh* What do you want Bulrush? Unlike you I actually have a job to do." Watch's voice was more than perturbed.

"I'm just a lonely pony looking for someone to talk to," that much was true. "There isn't anything happening here, I thought I'd pass the time talking with a friendly voice."

"Alright, you want to talk about the triple homicide that just got called in? How about officer Glam, you want to talk about how much those monsters screwed him up?"

Bulrush didn't much feel like talking about that, "Whad'ya say Watch? I'll swing by H.Q. and pick you up, we'll go dancing, maybe get a little tipsy. See where the night takes us?"

"How about this instead, why don't you go get tipsy with one of those two Bit whores you like to bang and leave me alone!" the transmitted voice was full of anger.

Bulrush just let it slide off him like water off a duck, "Hey! I get my kicks above the waistline sunshine."

"Wait, are you quoting a song?"

Bulrush toyed with the cable, "Maybe."

There was silence on the line, "Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you like that Bulrush. I've just been- I really liked Glam, he was a good kid."

"Hey tuts, no offence taken. And Daisychain ain't no two bit hooker. She's a ten bit hooker, give the mare some credit." the lone unicorn let out a laugh. Daisychain wasn't a prostitute, she was just loose, a swinger.

The radio buzzed once more and a third voice joined the fray, "Cut the chatter Bulrush, Watch I just arrived on scene and the fireponies haven't arrived yet." The newcomer was gruff and more than weary sounding.

"Hard Case is that you? What line are you working on tonight?" asked Bulrush.

"We received a report of somepony suspicious up in the north east ghettos, with the string of building fires lately we think it might be arson." explained watch.

"Alright I'm on hoof, hopefully our perp is still hanging around to watch the show. I'll radio back in five, Hard Case out." his end went silent.

"Hey Case buddy, how about I join you, sounds like you could use a helping hoof." Case's line stayed silent. "S*#@."

"Detective your hurting my feelings, I thought you wanted somepony to talk to. Am I not good enough anymore?" Watch was mocking him and she loved it.

Bulrush was preparing a snappy comeback when he got interrupted. Sounds of automatic weapons fire pierced the silent airspace. "Watch I'll be back in a tick," He unrolled the window and the chocking smoke drifted out into the night, from his low vantage he could see a stallion hanging limp off the side of the building. As he exited the car he could hear more gunfire as well as far off sounds of hoof fighting, he was looking for a fire escape or some ladder to get to the top but he couldn't find one so he ran back to the car.

"Watch you still there?" he asked hurriedly.

"Yeah I'm still here, is that gunfire in the background?" asked Watch.

Bulrush fished out the last cigarette from the pack and lit up, "You better believe it tuts, get Oats on the horn! This is what he was waiting for." He set the receiver down and opened the glove box, inside was his service sidearm. Without physically touching it he filled the six chambers and poured the rest of the box's contents into his trench coat pocket. "Looks like I am going to see some action tonight."

*****

Considering the fact that Bruce had jumped headfirst into a crowd of fifteen heavily armed ponies that were more than a little bit angry with him, things could have gone better. He had managed to take out three assailants before they had caught on, but that had been about the only good luck he had. Now the Bat was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The hard place was certain death at the hooves of some very angry mafia ponies, the rock was a veritable mountain of Poison Joke neatly bundled up for distribution by street level dealers. The plant which was a native species to the now deforested Everfree region has many 'medicinal' properties. When exposed to the mature flower without the proper protection a pony can have a seemingly endless amount of side effects. Anything from grotesque body augmentation to altering a pony’s voice, but the drug commonly referred to as 'Joke' is not the mature flower.

It is instead the immature Poison Joke bud, dried and ground into a course meal. How anypony discovered that doing such a thing would yield a hallucinogen so powerful is unknown. What was known were the many negative side effects to smoking joke, mild paranoia turns to deeper and deeper psychosis the longer the user consumes the drug. Heightened reaction time and a looser moral standards, this coupled with the drug's addictive nature has led to an increase in small crime.

Bruce was sheltered behind the mountain, buying time before the bombs went off. He could hear every single bullet that flew in his direction, embedding into the little packets. He had set them for three minutes and now he was cursing himself that he hadn't put half the time.

Over the constant barrage he could hear hoofsteps approaching, thinking quickly he put his back to the stack and pulled down the loose bundles over himself, burring him completely. He was careful not to move any, lest he alert them to his presence. In his mind he counted, it must have been two minutes already. He just had to wait that long then the tide would turn in his favor, the only problem was he hadn't put on his mask before hiding away. So that would mean he would be ambushing whoever was out there completely blind, just as much as they were.

Bruce closed his eyes and listened intently, the slow methodical hoofsteps kept walking until they stopped right outside his hiding spot. The mental stopwatch he had going was ticking down, ten seconds till detonation, five, four, three, two. Out from the pile he emerged, diving at the thugs legs and knocking him off his hooves. Up on the roof the bombs went off, a sickening odor filed the room, not unlike that of a timberwolf's breath, the smell was followed by a stinging sensation at the eyes and a thick white smoke.

Confused shouting filled the room followed by random gunfire and reports of friendly fire. Try as he might Bruce couldn't find his mask anywhere, it may have fallen off. So he had to navigate by memory, first he grabbed a brick sized package of drugs and began the treacherous journey through the war zone. Carefully he proceeded, crawling across the floor to stay below firing height until he bumped into his target, the stolen armored car.

The door was left open and nopony was inside, much as it hurt he had to open his eyes to find the ignition and the stick. Quickly he started the car and threw it into first, before diving out he jammed the brick of joke onto the gas pedal. At a terrifying velocity the car screamed as the rubber tires rubbed against the cement floor. The car smashed through the brick was as if it were nothing stronger than rice paper and it kept going until it flipped over onto its side.

The difficult part of the plan was over, he had impaired everypony inside the building and opened a big gaping hole in their defenses. The next step was impossible to screw up, they had no other option of escape other than the hole he had opened and he had the Batmobile in waiting just a block away. Once they began pouring outside he could easily counter them with the riot gear he had installed, beanbag guns and water cannons.

Bruce had his doubts at first but it seemed he hadn't needed the police's help at all, now all he had to do was get to the car and...

Standing about twenty feet away was something Bruce hadn't expected to see. A full swat team in body armor, armed to the teeth as well as a dozen uniformed officers, everypony's weapons drawn and aimed at the big black bat. Bruce was flummoxed, confuzeled, bamboozled to say the least. Not sure how to proceed he let loose the first thing that came to mind, "Um, good evening officers."

Needless to say, it didn't go over well. "Open fire!" Once again Bruce found himself on the business end of fetlock revolvers, having to dodge the hailstorm of molten lead. With no appealing options outside Bruce decided to duck back inside the mafia warehouse, only to immediately regret the decision. With the large whole in the side of the building most of the gas had escaped and now the remaining thugs had one goal in mind, find the bat and string him up.

Between another rock and hard place Bruce had to think quick, time seemed to slow around him. He watched helplessly as they all simultaneously drew their guns and took aim, he knew he had seconds. Almost as if it were instinct he reached for two items on his belt and he used them at the same time. One second the Batman was right in front of them, the next he was gone only a dissipating cloud of dust in his wake.

The thugs never did get to find out what happened, right behind the cloud was a well-trained group of lawponies coming to clean house. And they made quick work of the wounded and disoriented mafia, striking with surgical precision, careful to go for non-lethal shots. A minute later and the fire fight was over, amid the carnage the uniformed officers began cuffing the thugs and reading them their rights. Others were taking photographs of the scene and cataloging the contents of the warehouse.

Smack in the center was the commissioner, a smug satisfied smile covered his face. They had the car and likely the driver and his accomplices who shot his deputy. On top of all that he had most likely the biggest drug bust in years, all thanks to that mystery tip from his voyeur. Beside him was his detective and he was visibly angry about something, "What's got you down Bulrush?" asked Oats, "You just helped in one of the greatest police raids in years."

"Yeah right, helped." Bulrush was nursing the remaining stub of his final cigarette. "You know I cleaned this thing, oiled it, tightened the spring and set the hair trigger just the way I wanted it and I never got to fire once tonight!" He was angrily waving his service revolver around, making the forensics technicians nervous.

From up on the scaffolding Bruce was watching the proceedings, he knew he should be leaving but he had a weakness for police procedure. Detective work was always something he was interested in and it wasn't often he got to see it firsthoof. He had misjudged Oats, not that he felt bad for that. He and Oats had only met face to face three times in the past, during Dirty's funeral, in the theater ally and during his father’s trial.

While Bruce was reminiscing of days long gone something caught his eye, a bathroom door in the corner of the room opened up and a wide eyed mafia pony exited. He was carrying a very large knife and from the looks of it he was out for blood. He didn't go for the techs near him or the relaxing swat members. Instead he ran straight to the center, straight for the mustachioed head honcho of the police. His speed was lighting, and Bruce had only time enough to let loose a batarang hoping it would find its target. "Commissioner behind you!"

*BANG*

Bulrush was feeling pleased with himself as he surveyed the fresh bullet hole in the assailants head, "What'ya no boss? I got ta use it after all." He then turned the gun upwards into the rafter, "I have a clean shot Oats, you want me to take it?"

Bruce was already scrambling up and dashing to the hatch, the same one he had barricaded before diving into the warehouse. Oats had plenty of time to think it over, the Bat was struggling against it, throwing all his weight against the hatch in vain. Oats stooped down to pick up the metal projectile that had been thrown their way, he noted it's odd shape and it's bluntness, if he was out to kill him then he had some poor choices in weaponry.

"I still have a shot boss, I can take him down in one." Bulrush was a deadeye and a quick draw if there ever was one.

"We'll let him go for now, I might have use for a pony with his skills." Just as Oats finished saying that Bruce smashed his way through the steel hatch, breaking it off its hinges. Not a second later he was out into the night, Bulrush lowered the hammer on his gun and put the safety back on.

"Whatever you say boss, I'll just have to practice on the training dummies at the shooting range instead."

With his part done Oats went back to his own car and started driving back home, the whole time his mind was occupied with his plan for the mystery mane. 'I can use a pony with your skills, but will you want to be a part of it I wonder?' Either way Oats knew he would sleep well tonight, he and his police brothers and sisters had done good tonight and no more had lost their lives unnecessarily.

Author's Note

Sorry for the chapter taking longer than usual, I'm still trying to work around my less than satisfactory work schedule.

Apologies to anyone with an OC named Daisychain. I can already tell I'm going to have fun writing Detective Bulrush and the other police ponies. I want to have them as a well developed supporting cast as time goes on.

Home again, home again

"We go now to a live report from the scene of a heated firefight between police forces and a currently unnamed opponent. Miss Daisychain you have our attention." There was a flashy transition with the stations logo and a second later the news mare had taken the place. She was standing beside that obese detective who had the opportunity to shoot Bruce and they were discussing a fabricated version of the night's events. How the swat team planted charges on the exterior wall and blew their way inside, taking down all those inside with no mention of a four foot tall bat pony lurking in the rafters.

At least that's what Bruce gleaned from the television set with the sound down low. Most of his attention was on the tender little hooves practicing home medicine on his face. "Ow! That stings Silver."

"Well it can't have hurt more than the bullet that caused the cut in the first place, can it?" She was diligently applying a peroxide doused cotton pad to the dried bloody cut on his face. "You really should have cleaned this up sooner you know? It could have gotten infected."

"Really love? I think an infected cut was the least of my worries tonight." Bruce motioned to the discarded body armor on the floor, and the several bullet impacts across it.

Silver didn't let him dodge the subject, "Yes I know, but you can take care of yourself in that respect. I can't do anything for you out in the field. But little stuff like this I can handle, and don't go thinking that it doesn't matter. Just imagine you being bed ridden because you failed to disinfect a cut and got a blood infection, for shame." Silver was tut tutting him with her hoof. "You know... I'm almost tempted to believe you let yourself get cut just so you could get a visit from 'Doctor Spoon.' That wouldn't be the case would it?"

Bruce raised his hooves in surrender, "Heh, you got me Silver. Nothing gets past you." His false honesty was rewarded with a punch to the gut.

"Liar. You were cocky and you almost got shot in the head for it." Her words were true and they stung worse than the peroxide. "You can’t go in all willy nilly like that and expect not to get injured. You did a lot of good tonight honey, but it almost was your last. Just promise me you'll be more careful the next time you go out in the mask, if not for yourself then for the mare whose been by your side since the beginning."

"I will love, it's a promise." And Bruce meant to keep it.

"Good. Do you have a story planned to explain away the cut?" asked Silver.

He did have one, and he felt it would be a believable one, "If anypony asks, I cut myself shaving."

"Bruce?" He gave her his full attention, "I know you’re not from Equestria originally but I would think after fifteen years you would understand some things."

"I'm all ears Silver, pray tell what am I missing?" He felt justified in his patronizing tone, Silver was a wonderful mare and the best part of his life. But sometimes she could be just as bad as the little filly she was before-

Silver grasped his hooves and ran them across his face, rubbing his soft pony fur. "Unless you were going for the 'Flim Flam brothers tonic' poster child look, I don't think anypony in their right mind would be shaving their face."

"Ah, good point." And that was one of the many reasons why Bruce loved his mare as much as he did, she was around from his start in Equestria. She, his sister and Randolph to a lesser extent were some of the only ponies he trusted enough to open up completely. Silver Spoon understood him more than anypony else and she could help him see when he was getting confused with his 'past life.'

"How about this one, if anypony asks I'll say I tripped on a pebble." He looked to her for her seal of approval.

"It's plausible, but you'll end up making ponies think you’re clumsy." She was looking him over, "And you're anything but clumsy dearest."

"Maybe clumsy is a good thing, it'll throw ponies off the scent, at least for a while." Bruce brushed his hoof through her mane gently, sharing a warm smile and pulling her in for a kiss. After a few moments of sweet embrace he pulled away, "Um before we start. Is there anything to eat?"

Silver could hardly believe her ears, "You want to eat? Right before sex, you want to eat?"

"Well... yeah, I mean can you blame me? I didn't eat dinner, I'm starving. You know I get queasy if I eat a big meal before fighting crime." Bruce was fighting hard to defend his habits.

"Y-Y-You, GAH! You know what whatever, I wasn't in the mood anyway." Silver Spoon grumpily turned her back to the scorned lover.

Bruce bit his lip, but he had to say something, "Silver I, I need to know. Did Randolph put any left overs away?" He was repaid with another punch to the gut, this time it landed on a particularly sore bruise. "I deserved that." Bruce whimpered before collapsing onto the couch.

*****

The door to the modest apartment opened and closed, the tired hinges screeching the entire time. Oats kept telling himself he should replace them at some point, money wasn't the issue. His salary was noting to turn your nose at, no it was time that he didn't have. When he wasn't busy organizing the police force of the largest metropolitan city in Equestria or having to deal with the press, on the rarest of occasions when he could take time off, it would not be to fix the squeaky hinges that was for sure.

Nopony came to the door to greet him, not that he expected them to. His wife Barley was likely asleep already, being a police wife she had come to know the feeling of going to sleep alone. She was resourceful, intelligent, and rather plain looking for a unicorn but overall a pony with a good head on her shoulders.

Chaff on the other hoof, Oats could tell she was wide awake. Light was pouring out from under her door and muffled 'music' was blaring out of her stereo. Oats refused to acknowledge the incoherent jumble of electric beeps and boops she called dubstep music. Music was what the residents of the old Ponyville made during the Winter Wrap-up, it was cheerful and had melody. Opposing views on music was not the only thing putting a strain on the relationship between father and daughter.

Oats had been seeing colt after colt, filly after filly being hauled into the station on drug charges, vandalism and other things indicative to youth. He felt as the head of his household it was his duty to protect his adolescent from those dangers, the way he did so wasn't the best. Without speaking to her beforehoof he pulled Chaff from public school altogether, needless to say it was and still is a sore point.

So rather than spark another confrontation Oats decided to leave her be, she usually went to sleep sometime around three in the morning. He was starving, there hadn't been anything to eat at the precinct except for some very stale crackers somepony had abandoned in one of the cupboards. Before heading upstairs he rummaged about in the fridge looking for a slice of last night's hay loaf, a delectable poor pony’s food that only seemed to get better upon reheating.

After consuming the reformed grain product he went upstairs to the bathroom and cleaned up before heading into the bedroom. Nimbly he tip hoofed around the discarded pairs of heels and laundry hamper full of linens, he was looking for his flannel nighties. Where he found them was right on the end of the bed folded neatly along with his pair of earplugs. Barley was such a thoughtful pony and Oats appreciated it every day.

Carefully he slipped on the pajamas and stuffed the foam plugs in, dousing the raging inferno that was Chaff's dubstep. Oats let his dirty clothes fall to the floor, 'I'll clean it up in the morning.' he told himself.

"You'll clean it up now." said the groggy voice beside him.

"Sorry dear, I thought you were still asleep, didn't want to bother you." He hurriedly picked his laundry up and something heavy fell out of his coat.

"I saw you on the news tonight, is it true what Bulrush was saying to that reporter?" Barley looked genuinely concerned.

"Well that depends, what was he saying?" asked Oats.

She bit her lip, "Well.. he said you nearly got shot down by a dozen armed ponies."

Oats couldn't help but chuckle, Bulrush was such a fib. "That couldn't be farther from the truth my dear, by the time we entered the warehouse Swat had already taken care of most of them."

"Most of?" she asked.

"There was one mafia member, hopped up on Joke probably. He had a knife, Bulrush had a gun, I'll let you figure out how it ended." Oats pressed a hoof against hers, "It was all pretty cut and dry tonight. Well, except..."

"What's wrong Oatmeal?" Barley asked, using his pet name.

That heavy thing in his coat, it must have been it. "There was somepony else at the warehouse before we got there. I don't think he's working for the other families because he didn't kill anypony, but he's clearly an enemy of the Melodies." After fishing around on the floor he found it. "And whoever it is they must be very skilled, they threw this thing at me from fifty feet up in the rafters of the warehouse."

"They were trying to kill you?!"

"No, I don't think so. See for yourself and let me know what you think." He gave over the weighted throwing object he had picked up at the scene of the crime.

Using a bit of magic Barley lit up the room to get a better look, "It's dull, and very heavy. The shape looks very impractical to me, what is it a bat?"

"I forgot to mention, he was dressed up like a bat as well."

"Maybe this is his logo merchandise, he must have been trying to pitch his line of novelty throwing knives to you." Barley and Oats shared a laugh.

"Yeah it does sound pretty odd, what could motivate a pony to dress up in a nightmare nights costume and beat up heavily armed mafia members is beyond me. But he is good at it that much I know, the lab techs said he took down five on the roof and at least three inside before we arrived on the scene."

"It sounds like he'd be the perfect candidate for that idea you've been toying with for so long. Why don't you see if he's interested?"

"I would but I have no way of knowing where to find him. I could put out a hunt for him but I think that would more likely scare him off than attract him."

Barley turned the bat shape over in her hooves and an idea struck her, "Think for a bit Oatmeal, what if I wasn't wrong about the bat being this fella's logo? You could make some kind of signal to call him using the bat shape."

The idea had some merit to it, he could draw his bat like a moth to the flame and Oats knew just how he would do it. "Thank you dear, you gave me just what I needed. And if this works then by tomorrow I'll have a new specialist working for the police." He lent in and kissed her then slipped under the covers himself, getting snug with the warm body beside him. As Oats drifted off to sleep he couldn't help but feel optimist, something he hadn't felt in some time.

Tomorrow would be the start of a change in the tide of this endless war, he could feel it.

Author's Note

If you don't mind please leave some feed back on my portrayal of female characters. Let me know if there is some way I need to improve.

If I can I'm going to try and keep to a weekly uploading schedule from now on. As far as I'm able I'll try my best to have a new, edited chapter out every Monday. If I can't I'll be sure to say so in a blog as well as explain why.

Your gonna need a catchy name

The office of Commissioner Oats looked more like arts and crafts room of pre-school, he had scissors, construction paper and stencils laying everywhere. Nopony had the gal to ask what their leader was doing, some silently thought he might have lost a few marbles on the way to work. He had been there for hours working at a fever pace, numerous discarded attempts at whatever project he was working on littered the floor.

Oats was putting the finishing touches on attempt number twenty when Bulrush knocked on the office door, "Hey boss, can I have a word?"

"Yeah come on in, I could use your opinion on something detective." Oats' door swung open and shut, "Does it look like I've got this right? I cant seem to get the little ridges on the wings to come out the way I want them." He was holding up a sheet of construction paper with a hole cut out in the shape of a bat.

"Uh, nice boss. Look uh, Officers Law and Order need your go ahead to get the search warrant for the robbery beat they've been working." Bulrush was uneasy, he was shifting between his left and right set of hooves.

"So they've finally made some headway? That's good, it seemed like a dry well for a while. Why aren't they here themselves? Everypony knows my door is open." said Oats.

"With all due respect boss, everypony thinks you've gone off the deep end." As if to back up his assertion several desk jockeys were trying to peer through the window at the strange things their boss was doing.

Oats took a look around at his self made mess and couldn't fault them for their assumption. "You can tell them all I'm fine Bulrush. I'm working on bringing to life a project that's been rolling around this thick skull for a while now. Were in a war, and by Celestia we're losing that war Bulrush."

"I'd hardly call that bust we made last night a loss sir. Twenty arrests of mob heavies, the largest drug bust this year and no casualties on our side."

"And who do we have to thank for that Bulrush?"

"Um, you sir?"

"No, not me. I didn't tell you last night because I still wasn't sure, but I was tipped onto the warehouse by an anonymous party. And as much as I'd like to place all the praise on my officers, the truth is most of the work had been done before we even got there. The hole in the wall, at least three of the thugs inside were already knocked out and all the snipers on the roof as well."

"You think it was that bat freak we saw escaping out to the roof?"

"I'm certain of it, and I think he might have been the same pony who tipped me off in the first place. I can't say for sure but-"

"Now that you mention it, the raid did seem a bit too easy. All those thugs seemed ... out of it, as if-"

"Tear gas, or something near it. The lab techs haven't seen anything quite like it before, eye irritant, traces of heavy duty sedative. Whoever he was he did more without a gun than any of us ever could."

"So is that what this arts and crafts day is all about boss?"

"I'm trying to make a signal to reel him in, I want to talk."

"Is that all?"

"I also want him on the payroll. Think about it, a pony with his skills working for the police. We could send him into situations where any normal officer would end up getting nixed."

"You ask me it's a bad idea. Any freak whose into running around Ponyville in his bat pajama's and punching ponies in the face has got ta have somethin' screwy in the head."

"Aren't we a little screwy for sticking with this job Bulrush? I think any sane pony would have turned tail and ran years ago."

"Can't fault your logic boss. So what's our move?"

"Our move, our move is we take this up to the roof and turn on the spotlight. I'm sure once he see's our 'Bat signal' he'll come running. Or flying, I'm not really sure if he's a pegasus or not."

*****

Tonight was a night off for Batman, it was something Bruce felt he deserved. Silver understood his need to go out and fight crime, but they were still a couple and every couple needs some time just to relax together. He had the whole night planned, a candle lit dinner at home then a stroll through the starlit park. The ultimate goal was to make it up to her for last night, he had already promised that he wouldn't suit up for anything short of a disaster.

Even though they were eating in Silver Spoon had spent the time to get all gussied up. She was wearing her favorite string of pears with a satin low cut dress, Bruce had to admit she looked ravishing. "You look as lovely as ever Silver." he commented as she came down the stairs.

"You don't look half bad yourself, that cut on your cheek adds to your rugged good looks." said Silver. "So what does Randolph have in store for us tonight? Fil'hay Mignon?"

"Actually I gave Randolph the night off, I figured I should cook tonight." This raised an eyebrow for Silver. "Don't count me out just yet, I have something great planned."

"Oh, I'm not counting you out Bruce. It's just in the fifteen years I've known you I've never seen you cook."

"Well that's going to change tonight, I found a nice recipe for a vegetarian lasagna and it should be done in a few minutes."

"Is there any other kind?"

"Of what?"

"Lasagna, is there any other kind?"

Bruce caught on to what she was meaning, "Ah, no. I shouldn't have to specify that should I?"

"It must be a really strange world that you came from Bruce. Humans eating other creatures, I don't even want to imagine what kind of society would allow that." Silver gave a little shudder.

"Well, I already told you before, animals in the world I came from weren't like the cows and sheep in Equestria. As far as humans know they're the only intelligent creatures on the planet. And animals were just another source of food to us."

"I understand that much, but I just hope some other hungry human doesn't come to Equestria and start eating it's citizens." Her tone was half joking, half serious.

"I think they would be preoccupied with trying to figure out how the world is filled with talking horses who can fly and shoot magic. I know I was," Bruce remembered his first few days in Ponyville vividly, it seemed every couple of minutes something new and amazing would come around and stun his eight year old mind.

"Sorry I didn't mean to imply-"

"Imply that on seeing Mootilda in the street I'd be overcome with a hunger for flesh and proceed to eat her raw?"

"Not in so crude a terms, but yes."

"I don't mind, really I don't. Occasionally I remember what it tasted like and I might even crave it sometimes, but that's all. Actually I think if I ever were to taste it again I would hate it, I have been eating nothing but vegetation and baked goods for so long."

Feeling that the subject had been explored fully Silver decided to change to a different topic, "I spent some time with mom today, we got to talk in between some photo shoots."

"Oh, that's nice. I take it she's been busy with fashion week coming up."

"Busy is an understatement, try up to her neck. But I think she likes it that way, it helps convince her that ponies still need her skills."

"So, what did you talk about?"

"The usual, she caught me up on fashion world gossip, which model she thinks has 'Da magics.' She also won't stop asking when we're going to get married. I swear it's exhausting having to explain over and over that we're comfortable they way we are."

"That's funny, dad asked the same thing when I talked with him the other day. But you know if we do get married the're just going to shift their nagging to the subject of grandfoals."

Silver started chocking on her drink, "Sweet Celestia I can hear it now. 'Silver darling, ven are you going to be making the little foals? You must, you must, you must!"

Bruce decided to join in on the fun, "What would dad say, oh I know. 'Bruce m'boy, you really aught to think about settling down and starting the next generation of Rich's.'" Both ponies couldn't help but laugh at the unavoidable future nagging from their respective parents.

"Oh, it's going to be awful isn't it?"

"Maybe, but you know, there isn't anypony else I'd want to go through it with other than you."

"Your encouragable Bruce Wayne."

"I try."

Silver was blushing pretty hard, maybe it was the wine or maybe it was being in the company of a truly charming stallion. "All this talk has got me hungry, now I cant wait to try your lasagna."

"I'll go get it, just wait here." Bruce whisked himself off to the kitchen, she could hear the sound of the oven doors creaking on their hinges. A bad odor filled the house, "Silver?"

"Yes?"

"You know more about cooking than I do. Is the food supposed to be on fire?" Just then the smoke alarm went off, it's piercing wail confirming the sad truth of a dinner burnt to a crisp.

Silver ran to the kitchen and saw the fate of the lasagna, through the pyrex dish she could see the top four layers charred black. Quickly she put on some oven mits and pulled the dish out and turned the oven off. "It's not too bad."

"I thought if you doubled the temperature it would halve the cooking time, it's basic mathematics." Bruce was dejected, he had only wanted to make a nice meal for Silver.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that was love. But I think we can still salvage some good food from it-" Silver tried digging in with her fork but the burnt noodles turned to ashes in her mouth. "*Crunch* Mmhhm, Tasty."

Bruce took the dish and discarded it in the sink, "You don't have to try and spare my feelings Silver, I'm just sorry I ruined your dinner."

"Well, I don't know any other stallions who would even consider cooking for me. So I appreciate the effort anyway," she gave him a little peck of the cheek. "But we probably should see about getting some food delivered unless you want to dine on flambe' noodles."

"Pizza?"

"That sounds fine."

While Bruce was busy dialing the phone Silver decided to get some fresh air. The night was cool once again, the evidence was clear, the long march to the winter months was nearing it's end. Soon Ponyville would be covered in the frosty blanket, littered with specks of blood from it's violent underbelly. She had often wondered why they didn't just pack up and move someplace safe, away from the crime. She supposed it was the duty Bruce felt, he would never leave the city he had grown up in, and if she had anything to say about it Silver would never leave his side.

She wanted to go back inside, but the smell inside was ghastly, the cold night air was a fair trade off for the unbearable stench. It had taken all the strength Silver could muster not to vomit the food he had prepared right back up, for how bad it tasted that would have been an appropriate response. But he had tried and that's what was important, she decided to spend a few more minuets outside before facing the smell again.

The sky was dark and cloudy, not a star could be seen through the black puffyness. The weather factory had been wrong again, which wouldn't be as vexing if they themselves weren't the ponies responsible for making these clouds. Silver was feeling full of selfish self pity, her dinner had turned out in ruin and her moonlit stroll with her lover would be sans moon. They were first world problems but Silver Spoon was a first world mare, she couldn't help it. She had been born to two very affluent movers and shakers in Equestria's fashion world and raised by the staff who bowed to her every whim.

Maybe she was spoiled, but she liked to think she wasn't spoiled rotten, indeed she never wanted to be rotten to Bruce. Just as she was putting back on the 'not phased by this setback' face, something bright lit up the sky. The light was dancing across the stagnant clouds as if it were seeking a home. Eventually it settled somewhere above the commercial district, tracing it back to it's source it was somewhere in the center of Ponyville. More important than it's source was the shape the light took on the clouds, "Bruce!"

"Is it about the pizza? I ordered banana peppers on it just like you like."

"Forget the pizza and get out here!" demanded Silver.

A few seconds later and Bruce complied, as soon as he saw what she was so concerned over and he too became concerned. It was glorious, a bright yellow halo of light surrounding a black bat created in the negative space. It was the same bat that Bruce wore on his suit, his own symbol he had created. "What the-"

"-hay?" Silver said finishing his exclamation.

The two stood in silence for several minutes, staring at the unmoving signal. Wild ideas raced through their minds, was it a call for help? Was somepony trying to lure him into a trap? No solid concept could be gained yet the light was alluring, like a moth to the flame. After some time had passed Silver finally broke the silence, "You need to check this out Bruce."

"I will, in the morning. Right now it's our time together."

"No, right now. They know your symbol, they might know other things as well. What if they know who we are Bruce? We don't even know who's doing this, what if it's the Melodies or the Cadaverinies? Sweet Celestia Bruce they could be sending a hit squad right now to ax us off! They could be-" Bruce stopped her spiral into hysterics by placing a hoof on her shoulder and looking her right in the eyes.

"I'll find out. And if it's a threat, I'll stop it, nopony is going to hurt you." Silver nodded yes, somehow when he made bold promises like that to her she felt she could trust them.

"You'd better suit up, if it is one of the crime families then you'll need an arsenal."

"If it is one of the crime families then I'll need allot more than an arsenal. I think I'll just scout it out first, I'll give you a call as soon as I know what it is." With that Bruce ran inside to the hidden wall and disappeared into his cave, Silver still couldn't shake the terror she was feeling, she almost wished she could be in his bunker car beside him. Instead she went upstairs and locked the bedroom door, never going downstairs to get the pizza from the poor delivery colt.

*****

It had been roughly thirty minutes and nothing, not a peep from the bat. Oats hadn't taken into consideration how one sided this form of communication was, even if he had seen the signal how would he know where to go? He had thought about running downstairs and making a card with the police station's address on it, but that would just be silly.

So they waited, up top in the cold. Bulrush had been whining about not even getting to enjoy his cigarettes, Oats could care less, personally he hated the stench they made. Still he endured the cold, the smell and the whining for the prospect of something greater, an ally.

"Boss why are we still up here? I'm freezing my balls off and this freak show aint showin'."

"You can go ahead and leave if you want, I'll stay up here if it's all the same to you." Oats said while not taking his eyes away from the skyline.

"Thank you, if your not down by the morning I'll be sure to send some ponies up to collect your frozen corpse."

"Good night Bulrush."

His response couldn't be categorized as words, more as a series of guttural belly sounds mixed with a coughing fit brought on by the carcinogens he had been inhaling. He waved goodbye and ducked inside the roof access and left Oats alone, or not.

Upon reflection he had been completely silent, Oats hadn't realized there had been a second pony with him on the roof until he had spoken. "Good evening commissioner."

Oats spun around as fast as he could while reaching for his gun only to find it was no longer there. "H-how did you?"

"I could ask you the same thing, how did you know my symbol?" asked the black clad figure.

Oats could see his revolver sitting on the lip of the parapet behind where the bat was standing, out of his reach. "You left a trinket back at the warehouse, I guessed it's shape would be a good way to call you."

"You guessed right, I gotta say I was very surprised to see my logo lighting up the sky." Oats couldn't discern any facial features aside from a chiseled chin and a small cut across the cheek. What he could tell was from his voice, this was the same pony who had tipped him onto the warehouse in the first place, his hunch had been correct.

"That must have been some fight on the roof last night, five on one aren't odds I'd bet on normally. But then again, I don't think your a normal pony."

"You'd be suppressed what a few hours in the gym and a protein shake or two will do for you."

"The community gym doesn't teach you how to take down five armed ponies with your bare hooves. Where did you learn to fight?"

"Is there a point to this conversation or are you just wanting to play twenty questions with me?"

Oats knew he would have to bridge the topic carefully, if he screwed it up he'd lose his only chance. "There is a point, you're talented, strong and fearless. You know things about where the crime families are operating from and can infiltrate them. You compromised a stronghold on your own that would have taken dozens of my officers. And whatever you gassed them with before hoof most likely prevented several casualties in the fire fight."

The bat's expression was unchanging, flattery wasn't working so Oats decided to get to the meat of the proposal. "I need a pony like you on the force, a specialist who can do jobs that would just end up killing the officers with less experience. Please, I'm begging you, come work for me. Wear a badge and protect the city with the amazing skills you have." Oats got on his knees to accentuate the point.

"No."

"Eh, what?"

"I said no. I'm not going to work for a pony who can't even keep his own house in order." Anger was flaring up in Oat's nostrils, he was preparing for a comeback demanding who he was to talk about his family when the bat continued. "Everypony knows you have officers on the force who are in the crime family's pockets."

"Those are vicious rumors I assure you, everypony under me is just as dedicated to seeing them behind bars as I am." Oats was confident in that statement.

"Believe what you will, but even if what you said was true I still couldn't work for you. Do you know what my greatest weapon is commissioner?"

"Your gas bombs I suppose? I'm sure once we submitted them to an ethics board they could be approved for field use-" The bat cut him off.

"The gas bombs are a foal's toys, any junkie with half a brain could make something equivalent to them. No my greatest weapon isn't the gas or the brass hooves I'm wearing." Oats cringed, he hadn't noticed the metal horseshoes the bat had equipped, he'd been kicked by a thug wearing them once, it had given him three broken ribs and some internal bleeding from that fight. "My greatest weapon is my anonymity."

"This half inch of rubber mask allows me to do things without repercussions to my everyday life and the ponies I love. And I seriously doubt you'd ever allow me to swear in as Officer Batman."

"You are right on that account, such a thing would never be allowed. But you are on my side aren't you? You are fighting the Melodies?"

"I'll fight anypony who seeks to tear down my city with crime."

"Then what about this? What if I use this light as a call, whenever something comes up that is beyond the league of the police I'll turn this signal on and you'll come to help."

"If you end up calling every time the police are out of their league this would be a twenty four seven job." Oats glowered at him, "It's a joke. *jeez* That sounds fair, but I'll only work on my own terms, don't waste my time with small stuff like little filly's kittens stuck up in a tree."

"The slightest thought hadn't begun to speculate of the merest possibility of crossing my mind." said Oats with all sincerity. "But if we are going to work together in any capacity then questions are bound to be raised. Least of which would be what is this mystery pony's name?"

"You may call me the dark knight of Ponyville, the spirit of vengeance, the Batman!" Ominous lightning struck as he spoke.

Oats mulled it over in his head, "Naw that won't work at all, what's a 'man' anyway? You do have the bat look down pat, I'll give you that much. I think... Batmane! Yeah, Batmane sounds right."

Bruce was mortified, "What do you mean Batman wont work?! It's my name, don't go trying to change my name!"

"Are you sure? Because Batmane just seems to fit so much better with your whole ascetic."

"Stop trying to change my name!"

"Alright, alright Batman, you don't have to shout. So do we have an agreement? We'll only use the bat signal when it's truly important."

Bruce was still flustered but he agreed to the terms, "You have a deal commissioner." Just then the door handle to the roof started turning, "I'll be in touch Oats." Without hesitation the Batman leapt off the roof, Oats was shocked and ran to see. Halfway down the building he saw his cape fly open and act as a sort of glider, allowing him to descend gracefully out of view.

The door opened and Bulrush emerged, two coffees in magic grasp. "I uh, felt kinda bad leaving you up here all alone boss. Thought you might want something to warm yourself up so I brought you a coffee."

Oats took the cup with gratitude and drank, the bitter contents burned his insides in a glorious caffeinated rush. "*Ahh* Thank you for that Bulrush, really hit the spot."

"So did you hear anything from the freak show?"

"As a matter of fact I did, he calls himself Batmane."

*****

In a flashy scene transition two beings on unimaginable power came to a screeching halt from their journey across the fathoms of time. One native to the land of talking equine, one foreign, both very interested to see how their little experiment had proceeded in their absence.

"You know I can't quite put my finger on it, but... Did Ponyville always have hundreds of skyscrapers?" said the shorter of the two, his appearance was that of a small human child dressed in a loosely fitting costume not unlike Bruce's.

"Oh for ponies sake, we've gone too far forward!" said the taller one, his was a complete hodgepodge of animals. Wing of a bat, claw of an eagle, horn of a goat and much more attached to a serpentine body.

"Not too far, just right, look!" Shining brightly across the sky was a high powered searchlight. Illuminating the black clouds was the silhouette of a bat. "Grab a seat the show's about to start." With a snap of his finger and snap of the other's lion paw they both had their own theater seating with drinks and popcorn to match.

"What do you suppose is the problem they're calling our little Bruce for?"

"It's got to be some huge villain attack, maybe somepony escaped from Arkam or whatever the Arkam equivalent is in your world."

"This will be fun, chaos and carnage everywhere, I can hardly wait!" And wait they did, for little did they know that they had only stumbled onto the tail end of Bruce's first official encounter with the police.

"Discord?"

"Yes?"

"You hear what the writer is saying?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"What the hell Mr. Writer Man, why would you have us show up now if there isn't any cool Batman adventure for us to see!?"

Because all the returning readers were wondering when you would be showing up, I thought I'd play with expectations for comedic effect. And stop addressing me, it's bad form.

"Batmite I just pulled up the story page, were six chapters in." the Draqonaquiss had summoned forth a laptop from the void.

"Six! Six? Your six chapters in and he's just now starting to work with the police!? Please tell me he's at least fought some super villains yet?"

Well, the thing is, I like to take things slow and build characters first before action.

"Poison Ivy? Killer Croc? Bane? Mr. Freeze?"

*ashamed author noises*

"Calendar man?" Batmite asked in desperation.

"Batmite I found his author's notes, one labeled villain plans."

No don't look at those!

"Ooo, what's this? You've had the Joker cast since the beginning and it's one of my 'children' no less." The spirit of chaos had a devilish grin on his face.

"And she's in his family, oh ho ho, Mr. Writer you are a nasty one. The Joker being his own mom, ah the wondrous things only possible in internet fanfiction."

"What do you say my impish friend? Should we pay our main antagonist a visit?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. I'm glad we could have this chat Mr. Writer, we should do it again sometime." With two simultaneous snaps the demigods disappeared, leaving the author to contemplate his motives for bringing them into the story in the first place.

Author's Note

Now I'm expecting the comments to be calling Oats Commissioner Fury:rainbowlaugh:

You can probably tell by the kitchen scene but I read allot of Horse Wife. If you've never seen it then give it a shot, it's charming and heartwarming.

The conversation between Bruce and Oats is partially inspired by the poll I took when I was deciding what Bruce would go by as a super hero. Everyone voted to keep Batman but I felt Batmane was the better choice, but I bowed to their wishes in the end.

Daddy!

The sun was shining, birds were chirping and the mad ponies were walking the grounds. The Everfree Asylum as it had come to be known housed several hundred 'guests.' Located far from the city itself the facility was founded on the notion that isolation would make recovery faster. Most inmates were there under their own volition, some were committed by loving family members, still others were ordered there by the courts.

The two meddlers Discord and Batmite were here for one of the middle, though by the time they would be done with her she'd be one of the latter. "This isn't much fun at all, look them." The draconequus was motioning to the mentally unstable ponies on their midday sojourn. "No rioting, none of them trying to eat the topiary. This looks less like a crazy house and more like an assisted living home."

"We're not here to turn a bunch of grannies into supervillains (Regardless of how awesome that sounds), we came to find one pony in particular." said the mite.

"I haven't forgotten, let's just teleport into her room and get on with it."

"Wait, I have a better idea. What if we disguise ourselves as psychiatrists to get ourselves inside?"

"And why would we do that?"

"Because how often do you get the chance to run around as a pony?"

Discord put a claw to his goateed chin in thought, "Considering we're both immortal beings with nigh limitless power and nothing better to waste our time on I'd say the answer is all the time."

"Please?"

"I didn't say no." With a snap of his paw he was chimera no more, instead he became a grey unicorn with a tornado on his flank. "A little costume I like to run around in every once in a while. Let's see yours."

Batmite floated down to terra firma, his body was engulfed in a comic cloud of smoke and the pony that emerged was a sight to behold. A ghastly creature looking like something a three year old would draw if he only had red and black crayons. "Well, what do you think?"

"An alicorn OC? Really?"

"Fine I'll change, (Stupid jerk can't appreciate good character design.) Here what about this?" Batmite changed form once more, this time his appearance was much more subdued, a simple earth pony with muted pastel coloration. He was also wearing a turtle neck sweater and glasses to complete the look.

"Much better."

Infiltration was child's play, with conjured up Ph.D.’s and identification papers getting access to patients was a snap. As they flipped through the registry they finally found the name they were looking for, Screwball. Her cell was located towards the rear of the top floor and two over muscled stallions stood guard in front. "May I help you sirs?"

"Yes you may, we are two visiting doctors from Germaney and were interested in getting an interview with the patient you are guarding." said Discord in disguise.

"No ponies are allowed inside her cell except those authorized by the hospital's director. You are not on the list of authorized staff."

"Are you sure? Because I think we both are." In his false hooves he held the sign in sheet and both their pseudonyms were written in indelible ink. "Is their going to be a problem?" Discord’s voice was rhythmic, layered, hypnotic

In an instant all the color seemed to drain from the two and a noticeable change in their personality became apparent. "Problem? I don't give a flying feather who goes in there! Come on Nightwatch, let's get some brewskies and watch hoofball." Both stallions got up and walked out of the room ignoring the ponies who weren't supposed to be there.

"Nice trick, how do you do that anyway?" asked Batmite as he ditched the disguise, once more becoming his little trickster.

Discord followed suit, though once he did he found his horns piercing through the foam tiles on the ceiling. To alleviate that he plucked his head from atop his neck and placed it lower on his body, "It's nothing difficult I assure you. Ponies are simple creatures, all too often they define their whole being by a single trait. Honesty, loyalty, generosity, one has simply to fiddle around in their disproportionately large heads enough to realize that such traits can be reversed. Applejack became a liar, Rainbow Dash abandoned her friends, Rarity clung to a worthless pile of rubble called Tom."

"And the once dutiful guards become slobs?" asked Batmite.

"Something to that effect, yes."

"Hmm, that seems pretty villainous to me. I thought you were reformed Discord."

"Oh PUH-LEASE. Me? Discord, reformed? I'd never dream of such a thing, I'm merely playing them like the fools they are until my opportunity to regain power comes. True they have those Elements of Harmony that can seal me away, but bearers die, I am eternal."

Batmite stared at him intently, this was either a major continuity hiccup or Discord was hiding something. "Didn't they return the Elements of Harmony already? What's preventing you from taking over?"

A cold sweat came off of Discord, as the droplets hit the ground they turned to bullets. "Well I ah, there's the um, it's complicated and... Shut up imp."

"You don't actually like Fluttershy do you? Little miss kindness hasn't tamed Equestria's master of chaos, has she?"

"I said shut up imp!" the draconequus was notably upset at this point. "I'd like to be in a good mood to meet my 'daughter." With a snap he melted the heavy bar across the door into a puddle of goo, he swung the door wide open and motioned for Batmite to step inside. "After you."

He stepped in, or rather floated in unprepared for the two hundred pound mare waiting to pounce him. From his new vantage point on the floor he could see she was in her late forties but wore a propeller beanie indicative of youth. Most striking were her unnatural eyes, an endless mass of swirling pink spiral. "Get off of me!"

"No, you’re the big hairy bat! Wait no, you’re too small to be him. Hmm," the mare child looked him over intently then licked his face. "Euach! Dust, moldy paper, powdered cheese! You're not the big hairy bat, you're his fanatic! I think I'll squash you anyway." She drew back a hoof, preparing to strike.

"Discord get her off of me!"

Immediately her continence changed, "Daddy?"

All the walls in the room took on the face of the draconequus, smiling with his fiendish smile. "Hello little one, daddy's glad to see you." She jumped up and started hugging the face walls.

"I missed you so much daddy! They stuck me in this dull place and threw away the key, but you're here now. Does that mean you've come to reclaim your rightful place as ruler?" She was acting just like a little child.

All the faces on the wall merged into one and then emerged from the wall itself, with his eagle talon he twirled the little propeller on her hat. "Sorry pumpkin, daddy is too busy to take over the world right now. But you know, you could do something for him."

"What can I do? They've locked me in here and thrown away the key, everypony wants me to stay in my padded room." Her eyes were like those of a sad rabid puppy.

"But who can restrain Discord? Nopony that's who!"

"Except for six teenage mares with their magical fashion accessories." said Batmite.

"Be quite imp." Screwball demanded.

"That's my girl, anyway the door is open and if you're careful nopony will find you on your way out. I even have a little gift for you, use it as you like." He handed her a long wooden box, inside was a revolver with a four foot barrel. "I bet you could take down an airplane in one shot with a gun like that."

"Thank you daddy! I'll put it to good use." Screwball began toying with the gun, pulling back the hammer and pointing it at the floating multidimensional man child.

"Really Discord, aren't we supposed to be getting guns out of the hands- er hooves of our children?" He knew it posed no threat to himself, though it did come from a god of chaos so what surprises it held was anyponies guess.

Discord placed a finger like paw in one of Screwball's ears and his talon in the other, then proceeded to detach them from the rest of his body. With her hearing obscured he felt safe in saying, "I shouldn't have to explain myself but that Thing is not any child of mine. She's merely a descendant of the ponies I altered to be better suited to living in my world. Everypony else calls her broken, when in reality it's the whole world that's broken, at least from her perspective."

"Why would you do that in the first place?" asked Batmite.

"My way of being a benevolent ruler I suppose. Whatever the case Screwball is a square peg in the round hole of Equestria. The Na in the H2O, the-"

"I get it, she's going to clash." Batmite floated over and tore out the disembodied appendages from her ears. "Screwball, if you think you’re up for it, your daddy and I have a little job we want you to do."

"I'll do anything daddy wants, anything." she said in earnest.

"Good then, all you have to do is cause as much chaos as you can. You know the big hairy bat right? He's going to try and stop you and when he does you're going to fight him." said Discord.

"And squash him like vermin?"

Discord calmly shook his head no, Batmite was furiously shaking no. "Not yet pumpkin, but you'll get your chance one day. For now we wan't you to be an...adversary, a rival to Batman.”

"His antithesis," Batmite spouted with a little lisp.

Screwball was genuinely dejected, "Alright daddy, can I at least beat the snot out of him?"

"Yes you may."

"Yay! Thank you daddy, you're the best!"

"I am aren't I? Scoot along now, you have allot of work ahead of you and not much time to do it in." The draconequus pointed to the open door, to freedom. Without hesitation she bolted out the door, as she did the sensor band across her hoof set off the proximity alarm, a blaring siren wailed across the speakers.

"Oopsie, I forgot they put this on me the last time I tried to bite the nurse's face off." She embarrassedly hid the band behind her. "I'd better go before the strong young stallions in clean white coats come to get me. Bye bye daddy!" And with that she was gone, down the halls and bursting through security desks like they were balsa wood.

Feeling confident that their work was done for the moment the two other beings decided to leave the scene before it became crawling with police. As he left Batmite couldn't help but feel sorry for the insane mare he'd just helped escape. She was devoted to Discord but he treated her like nothing more than a pawn. Still they did need a pony to act as an arch nemesis of sorts and she fit the bill. Still he wondered, could she be trusted not to kill Batman just when the show was getting started?

A question for another time, he too faded from the room.

Author's Note

As a reminder for returning readers this Discord comes from before the season four finale.

I was going to have this chapter much longer but I ran into some setbacks so I'm going to divide it in two. And in case your not a fan of these two characters having this much time in the spot light, have no fear. They are here simply to get the ball rolling and will be having much smaller roles after this ark.

Enemy in law

The bat signal had been lighting up the sky for about fifteen minutes when Bruce showed up, soaring up the side of the police station at an alarming rate. Once he landed he wasted no time, "Commissioner, what's the emergency?"

"Good morning to you too Batmane. You must watching the skies to have gotten here so quickly."

"That or I have a fast car, and my name is Batman."

Oats seemed to ignore the latter half of his remark, "I have a job for you, consider it a test drive of our little agreement. Earlier today a high profile and notably dangerous pony escaped from the Everfree Asylum."

"And you want me to bring them back in?"

"Exactly, she's already proved more than the hospital guards could handle and the officers that were dispatched to the scene once her proximity alarm went off were outmatched. I've arranged for you to have time to investigate her cell without interference, but we've already picked it clean. I also arranged a meeting for you with the hospital's director, she should be able to clue you in on what kind of pony your dealing with. Here take this," Oats gave over an ID badge labeled Batmane.

Bruce pinned it on his suit begrudgingly, he would have to find some whiteout later to get rid of that extra E. "So what's the name of this escapee?"

"Name is Screwball Rich, wife of the business tycoon who got out of jail a few years back. I used to know her, well, before she completely lost it. I know it might sound strange but try not to hurt her too badly when your bringing her in, not just because a mental patient covered in bruises would raise some uncomfortable questions, but also as a favor. Her husband, Filthy, we haven't spoken much since I locked him up. But we used to be friends, and that has to count for something."

It had been some time since Bruce had heard that name, if ever he could avoid visiting her he did. Ever since that first encounter when he was eight Screwball had always been hostile towards him. But Oats' point was true, Filthy had always held onto the hope that one day his wife would regain her sanity. Even if he dreaded being around her, she was still family even if it was by the loosest definition of the word. "I'll do my best commissioner."

*****

Silver Spoon was just settling in on the couch for some midday tea prepared by Randolph, a look through the paper to see if anything would catch her attention and finally she would end the day pouring over the calendar trying to arrange both Bruce and her own schedules. It was a full time job sometimes, being a socialite. Endless functions to attend, meeting with the heads of different charitable organizations pleading for funding and the gossip.

It was no longer the gossip of fillyhood, innocent and harmless. Nowadays keeping up with every little detail was a mater of life and death. Not literally of course, but socially not knowing could very well give off the aura of non interest and that could very well spell the end.

At the moment Silver was just grateful to be back to the mundane, that scare last night with the searchlight had rattled her cage. When Bruce had returned latter on she could hardly believe it was true, the commissioner had offered him a job. It was good news to be sure, but completely unexpected. By now she was calm enough that the unknown party knocking at the door didn't startle her as it did last night. "Randolph? Would you be a dear and see who it is?"

"Right away mistress," The butler who'd been dutifully standing in the corner walked to the front door. "May I be of assis- Oh mistress, it's mistress Tiara!"

"Di?! Silver peeked her head over the back of the couch to see, standing in the doorway there she was, her childhood friend and Bruce's adoptive sister. Still wearing her piece of namesake costume jewelry that by now was too small for her head and a duffle bag slung across her shoulder. "It is you!" Like a little school filly she jumped over the couch and ran to the door, without a shared word they recited their decade old gesture.

"Bump, bump, sugar lump rump!" Two hoof bumps followed by a dual hipcheck, once it was used as a taunt against their adversaries, now it was almost ceremony to greet each other that way.

"Sorry for dropping in unexpected like this Silver, I got in a training accident and tore a leg muscle. The doctors ordered no exercise and plenty of bed rest for three whole weeks, I was getting sick of Canterlot so I hope you don't mind me crashing here with you two." Upon further inspection Diamond's left hind leg was bandaged, the price one pays for being an Equestria Games hopeful.

"Like you ever need to ask permission to come stay here, this is as much your home as it is mine and Bruce's. Speaking of, come sit with me on the couch, I'll tell you all about how his crusade has been going. Randolph can you take her bag up to her room?" Both mares made their way the lounger, Diamond slowly walking on three of her legs to avoid putting weight on the injured one.

After getting comfortable Silver proceeded to recount the events of the past few nights while sharing some tea. "So what do ponies think about 'The Bat' in Canterlot?"

"Everypony thinks it's just a hoax, although if my brother keeps doing stuff like that warehouse I don't think he'll stay a hoax for long." said Diamond.

"So, I need to know, did you make it?" Silver asked expectantly.

"It's a sure thing now, come next games I'll be representing Ponyville in the High Bar and the Pommel Horse." Sweet satisfaction and pride covered the mare's face, it had been a long journey but it was nearing the satisfying payoff.

"Two events, that's two gold medals you’re going to bring home. I'm so glad that they got rid of that silly rule where an athlete could only perform in one event." Silver commented.

Diamond was nodding in agreement, "Same here, now cities and foreign countries with less competitors have more chances to win. It's just fairer all around." She finished off the remnants of her tea cup and poured some more, "It's hard to believe my career started from that one day at the flag carrying tryouts. If you would have asked me then I thought I'd be where Bruce is, running the family company. Though I doubt I'd have his same pass time."

"Yeah, body armor doesn't really fit your style does it?" A pregnant silence overtook the room, it was clear she had more to say but it was equally clear she was hesitant to say it.

Diamond felt she knew her best friend well enough to guess what that something was, "You know you can't stop him Silver, my brother is too pig headed to back down from the course he's chosen."

"I know that but, I worry. Every night he goes out to fight crime, I don't know if he's going to come back." Much as she tried to avoid it, tears began welling up in her eyes. Diamond pulled herself closer and wrapped her hooves around Silver. "Oh Celestia, I just know one day I'm going to wake up without him by my side."

"Its okay, let it out, I'm listening." she felt uncomfortable, it wasn't often Diamond Tiara was called upon to play the comforter.

"I haven't told you yet because I didn't want to mess up your tryouts but, Bruce has been shot. Twice already, once on the face and when he came back from the warehouse his armor was covered in bullets. It was so bad he had to stop using that chest plate," Diamond's eyes went wide. "I know he's lucky, but nopony's luck lasts forever. Some night he's going to get hurt or stabbed or shot and there'll be nopony to help him."

"Silver look at me, you can't keep worrying like this, it's not healthy. I'm going to have some choice words for Bruce once he gets home believe me. But in the meantime remember Bruce has a lot more than luck on his side, he's been training in every pony, griffon and dragon fighting style for fifteen years. He's by and large the most intelligent stallion I've ever met and it doesn't hurt that he has the funding of a multi-million dollar conglomerate at his hooves making the best equipment money can buy." her logical reassurances were just what Silver Spoon needed to hear.

"*Sniff* Y-Your right Di, I'm just being silly, just a silly little mare."

"You’re not being silly, your being a loving and devoted partner. You don't know how much it means to me to know my brother has somepony like you at his side. I never have to worry at night about if he's throwing his life away with some floozy, I kind of get the feeling if you weren't there he'd be a notorious skirt chaser."

"Actually if I weren't grandfathered in I think Bruce would be having a lot of trouble having a relationship."

"All the more reason I'm happy that you're with him." Diamond patted her on the back as if to say, 'hang in there.' "Where is Bruce anyway? At work I suppose."

Silver shook her head, "No, he got another signal from the commissioner, apparently something has already come up that they need the Batman's help with." Almost on Que the telephone began to ring, "Mind if I get this?"

"It's fine, actually I'm famished from the train ride, any food in the fridge?"

"There should be some leftover pizza in there." Diamond left the room and Silver picked up the receiver, "Hello, this is Silver Spoon."

"Silver I'm glad it's you, not sure if I would want Randolph to hear about it." The voice on the other end of the line was Bruce's, not even using the disguised Batman voice.

Silver covered over the speaker, "Di! It's Bruce, I'm going to put it on speaker phone so you can hear too."

"Thanks Silver!" Diamond shouted from inside the fridge.

"Go ahead Bruce, how did your meeting with commissioner Oats go?"

"The meeting was fine, he had a job that he felt was out of the police's league and wanted me to take on personally. Yesterday an inmate escaped from the Everfree Asylum, I'm driving there now. He wants me to track her down and bring her back into custody." Bruce's mood was not at all what she would have expected, he wasn't excited that he was finally getting to work with the police.

"Is there something wrong Bruce?"

"It's who I'm supposed to be finding that's the problem. You know Diamond's mother right?"

"Sweet Celestia, you don't mean to say-"

"Screwball is running around unsupervised and Luna only knows what she might do. I'm glad Randolph wasn't here to hear about it and I just hope I can bring her back to the asylum before dad and Diamond have to find out." Bruce paused as he waited for a response, unaware of the situation on the other end of the line.

Diamond Tiara had just emerged from the kitchen, with a slice of cold pizza in hoof and a slack jaw. Now she too looked to be on the verge of crying, "Bruce tell me this isn't true!"

There was a sound of tires screeching, "S-Sis! I didn't know you were home."

"Bruce tell me this is some sick joke, please tell me this isn't real." The real pain was evident in her voice.

Bruce took a deep breath, "It's real, Oats said on her way out she hurt several guards, doctors and two police ponies who had arrived on the scene."

"Oh Celestia, oh no." It was as if all the wind had escaped her lungs, leaving a hollow voice in its place.

"Sis I'm going to find her, she still has her tracking bracelet on. Once I get the frequency from the hospital director I'm going to track her down and bring her in." Bruce was firm and authoritative.

"I feel numb Bruce, this isn't how anything was supposed to happen. Mom was supposed to be secure in there, she was supposed to be safe."

"I know, that's part of why I'm going to the asylum, I need to figure out how she escaped."

"Bruce I know mom hates you, but just promise me. Promise me you won’t hurt her, please." That was the second time today somepony had asked Bruce not to hurt Screwball. He had no great desire to do so but it was almost an inevitability.

"I promise Diamond, as far as it depends on me I won’t hurt your mother. I have to hang up now, I'm almost to the asylum." After an exchange of goodbyes the phone was curtly disconnected.

"Di, I- I don't know what to say." Silver had remained quiet throughout the conversation out of respect.

"Just don't say anything. There's nothing you or I can do anyway." said Diamond, brushing off her friend's sympathy.

A bad thought entered into Silver Spoon's head, "Bruce said he hoped you and Filthy wouldn't find out. Does that mean the police haven't informed him yet?"

Diamond's eyes went wide, knots started forming in her stomach, "Oh no, Silver your right! I have to go see dad right now!"

"Go, don't worry about your stuff, Randolph and I will have your room all set up by the time you get back. Take one of the cars in the garage and do what you need to do," Silver gave her the most reassuring smile she could manage.

"Thanks, Silver. You're the best friend a mare could ask for." On her way out the door Diamond set down the slice of pizza, her appetite had left her.

*****

The entire way to Rich Enterprises Diamond was driving at the very least twenty miles above the speed limit and passed through no less than three red lights. Normally she'd be a studious driver, careful to avoid any scandal that would ruin her chances of getting into the Equestria Games. Now however she could care less about safe driving, right now she needed to be in her father's office.

As she pulled into the underground parking lot she was going so fast that she ended up jumping the curb. After hearing the nasty crunch Diamond felt kind of guilty, it was her brother's car she was driving, but she felt he would understand, it was an emergency after all. She jumped into the elevator and tried to remember what floor Filthy had his office on, once she did she was perturbed to find the button was one that required a key to use.

Getting the key was no small task, Diamond had to deal with a rather incompetent mare working at the reception desk first. "What do you mean you don't know who I am?!"

"I'm sorry miss but you’re not on the list of approved visitors for Mr. Rich. I have very explicit instructions not to let anypony not on this list up to his office."

"B#@* your list, I need to talk with my father now! Who's on that thing when I'm not anyway?" Diamond swiped the clipboard from the spectacled mare's hooves against her vocal objections. Right top of the list was Bruce, then some other ponies she knew about from the business world, there were other names on there she didn't recognize like Cavallo. "I may not be on this list but I am your boss' daughter, do you want some proof?"

She fished out of her hoofbag a wallet full of identification papers to allow her into the training facilities, thousands of bits in the newly implemented paper variety and photographs of her when she was a filly getting a piggy back ride from Filthy. On the back was written, 'To daddy's little princess.' A gift he had given her the day his guilty verdict had been handed down, days later Filthy had been sentenced to ten years in prison.

"Is this proof enough?" Diamond asked impatiently.

After looking at the photograph the mare looked genuinely embarrassed. "I'm sorry Miss Tiara, if I had known than I would have let you in immediately. I'll have the security guard by the elevator unlock Mr. Rich's floor for you." She gave a bow in apology.

Diamond wasn't going to let an incompetent like her get off scot free, "If I were you, I'd start packing my things now. Because by the time I'm done talking with my father there will be a new receptionist position open." To add finality to what she was saying she rudely flicked her tail in the mare's face.

One elevator ride later and Diamond was up to her father's office, the door was closed and she could hear him talking over the phone. "Yes, yes I understand. --- I know it's a setback, but maybe you shouldn't send somepony quite as obvious next time. --- No I'm not doubting your decisions Don, I apologize. --- Yes I'll take care of it personally. --- I assure you there's no need for --- You'll have your money by the end of the day. ---" After the last muffled words came from the speaker the line was disconnected, she could hear her father let out an exhausted sigh.

Gently Diamond knocked on the door and entered, "Hi daddy."

"Princess! I didn't know you were in town, were you waiting out there long?"

"Only a couple minutes, I heard you on the phone and didn't want to interrupt. A pushy business partner I take it?"

"Pushy is one way of putting it, cut throat is more like it. But everypony has to be a bit cut throat in the business world." Filthy searched around his cigar box and placed one in his mouth, only stopping once he remembered whose company he was in. "Heh, it's a bad habit I picked up behind bars. So what brings you back to Ponyville so soon?"

"An injury," Filthy's eyes shot open wide. "Nothing serious, just a torn muscle. And before you ask daddy, yes my spot on the Ponyville gymnastics team is locked down."

"That's my girl! I'd better start reserving seats at the stadium, I want every employee of Rich Enterprises to be there rooting for you."

"Not every employee, did you know that receptionist out front had the gall to stop me from coming up here? Apparently I'm not on her list." Diamond was still rather flustered at the whole ordeal.

"Really? That's odd, Selena is usually on top of things like this. I'll have to have a word with her later on."

"Can't you just fire her daddy? For me?" Diamond was fluttering her eyebrows and jutting out her lower lip.

"Princess I can't go firing ponies for no good reason. I may be the boss but I'm not unreasonable, I did place her under strict orders not to let anypony not on the list up here. If anything I should be scolding her for breaking that rule."

"*Gah* Fine." With her petty concerns out of the way Diamond's true reason for coming came back to her. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Have the police came to talk with you yet?" At the mention of police she could see a bead of sweat form on his brow.

"No, should they be?"

"Daddy, I just learned, mom escaped from Everfree Asylum."

Silence hung in the air, it was Filthy's worst fears realized. The last time his wife had been running free was over twenty years ago, that was the night she had completely lost her mind. It had been only a few days after Diamond had been born, all of a sudden something changed inside her. Screwball started asking for her father, 'Where's my daddy?' she would ask, her father had been buried in the ground for years at that point.

It only got worse from there, a once intelligent and kind mare became like a vengeful little child, striking out at those around her. "Diamond, I want you to know something. The police will find her, and they'll bring her home safe. And one day we'll find a cure for her."

"Daddy, you've been saying that since I was a filly. You can't honestly believe there is a cure." It hurt her to say those words and it hurt Filthy more to hear them from his daughter. "I know I call her mom but the truth is she never raised me. The only contact I've ever had with her is our monthly visits. Randolph has been more of a parental figure than she ever has."

Sad realization came upon the stallion, "Princess, maybe you're right. I've kept holding on to hope that the doctors could find some way to save her. I sank I don't know how many bits into funding and they haven't made any progress after this long. Once she's back safely, I'll take care of her personally."

"Daddy?"

"I'm going to do everything I can to help her, if it takes the rest of my life I'm going to save your mother." The middle aged pony said with resolve. His daughter too was moved by his resolve.

"Even if I have to put aside sports, I'll do everything I can to help daddy." Both were filled with hope even though the struggle had only just begun.

Filthy got up out of his desk chair and took a seat beside Diamond, "You know princess? You're just like your mother when I first met her. A promising career ahead of her but more than willing to set it aside to help a silly stallion with wild ideas."

"How did you two meet anyway?" Diamond pried.

"I've never told you?! But it's one of my favorite memories. Well it all started when my father had me working as a clerk at his store, when all of a sudden the most beautiful mare I've ever seen walks up with a cart load of groceries. Normally I'd ask if she found everything she was looking for but I was completely tongue tied. In the end I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, which at the time was, 'my Celestia you are the prettiest creature on this planet. ..."

*****

From outside the high rise Batmite listened in on the conversation, with every fond memory shared he grew more and more upset. He wasn't just toying with some crazy mare, he was playing with a family that had already gone through more than anyone should. He had just wanted to have an adversary for his favorite hero to fight against, nothing more.

Maybe he couldn't do what needed to be done but he knew who could.

Author's Note

So for those unaware, last week I injured my finger in an accident at work. It's just now starting to heal but I have trouble typing with it. I will try my best to keep a weekly upload schedule but if the next chapter is delayed know it's because of my injury not a lack of enthusiasm.

History lesson

It was an odd sensation, walking into the Everfree Asylum for the first time in years. It also didn't help that everypony Bruce past on his way to the director’s office was staring him down like a roadside attraction. He supposed the sight of a black pajama clad pony might have startled the police force already looking for an escaped inmate. But nopony tried to stop him or toss him in a straightjacket, for the moment the badge Oats had gifted him was working.

It didn't take long to find the directer's office, only a few doors down from the reception desk on the first floor. The little brass placard had engraved, 'Director Fluttershy.' After knocking a gentle quite voice invited him inside, "Come in, if you want to that is."

The awkwardness of the situation seemed to double once Bruce stepped into the office, it was a nice place, soft furniture and little furry animals skittering about. Standing in the corner was the room's owner and proprietor of the asylum, one of the six most famous ponies in Equestria, Fluttershy.

"Oh dear, when I spoke with the police commissioner before he had said you valued your privacy, I guess this wasn't what I was expecting." She wasn't half bad looking, a petite Pegasus in her mid-thirties sporting a distinguished pair of reading glasses and a lab coat. "Take a seat if you please Mr. Batmane."

Bruce complied and lay down on the therapy lounger, "Please do not call me that, it's just a misconception. I go by Batman."

"Very well Batman, if you insist." she stifled a giggle. "Before we begin would you mind if I asked some questions of you?" He nodded no so she continued, "Mr. Oats said you are seeking to protect Ponyville, is that correct?"

"Yes that is correct, I've dedicated my life to this city and its ponies."

"I see, and why do you have such a strange outfit? Not that I mind the bat look, I'm quite partial to them myself." Bruce felt like there was a double meaning in that statement but he wasn't sure what it could be.

As for the reasoning behind the bat iconography, that was hard to explain. True, Bruce Wayne had chosen the bat, but that was a completely different Bruce from a completely different world. Suffice it to say he didn't trust her enough to explain the circumstances of how he came to Equestria, odds are she'd have him committed as one of her patients. "It's to strike fear into the criminal masses, they are a superstitious and cowardly lot."

"I see. And why have you decided to set up here in Ponyville? Surely there are other places full of crime that would need your skills." By now she had taken her own seat with clipboard in hoof.

"Ponyville is home, I shouldn't have to explain why anypony would step up to protect their home from these newcomer criminals."

A look of realization hit her, "Ah, so you must be somepony who lived here before Tirek's destruction." Bruce clammed up, how had she pried that from the few words he'd spoken. "Ponyville was just a small village before Tirek burned it to the ground, there was little crime whatsoever. It was only when thousands of refugees from the other destroyed villages started congregating here that crime became an issue."

She was good, Bruce supposed she learned it during her collage years. "I'm curious, why did you change profession miss Fluttershy? You were fairly successful as a veterinarian." He wasn't even trying to mask his living in pre-war Ponyville anymore, it was little known that Fluttershy hadn't become a proper doctor until a few years ago.

"Kindness, or so I'd like to believe anyway. It was unfortunate but the Ponyville general hospital was one of the first structures to burn, along with most of its staff." Her tone was dour and disquiet, "Every day I walked through the refugee camp I would see hundreds of ailing mares, stallions and foals and no doctors to treat them. I felt guilty Mr. Batman, here I was a pegasus who'd dedicated her life to animals when my fellow ponies were dying of easily treatable ailments."

"Twilight's library had been destroyed so there were no medical textbooks to speak of, I had to travel all the way to the Canterlot library by wing. The railroad tracks had been ripped from the ground you'll recall. I spent two weeks in Canterlot reading every medical text book I could get my hooves on and spent every bit I had on medicine to bring back. Everypony called me the lady of kindness but I was just doing what I felt was right."

"After things had settled down and the rebuilding began I began to see ponies suffering from a different kind of trauma, mental. So I did the same, I learned everything I could about mental health. But mostly I sought to be a hearing ear to ponies who found it impossible to reconcile the devastation they faced." Bruce noted that even still Fluttershy was watching him and jotting down notes in between sentences. "I tell you this because that is my purpose in life, to heal the wounded. And the pony who escaped from this facility yesterday may be the most wounded of us all."

"I know she's been out of her mind for many years, I also know she can be dangerous outside of her special enclosure." Bruce said.

"It's not just that, she's been robbed of something special, her family. And the worst part is we have no idea how to treat her, medical scans show her condition is magical in nature, but it's like no magic science knows about. I had a friend once, well at least I like to think he was a friend. He could use a kind of magic he called chaos, it could do almost anything. I wonder if Discord could have healed her?" There was a strange emotion on her face, a mix of sadness and regret.

"If he could help why don't you ask him?" Bruce was vaguely familiar with the name, maybe from Ms. Cheerilee's class?

"Oh believe me, if I could I would. Actually we were trying to solicit his help in tracking Tirek down, that was before he had regained his power. But Discord vanished without a trace, I wonder how many lives could have been spared if he had been there?" By now the tone of the room was downright depressing. "Anyways, enough of my rambling. I've written down the tracking frequency to Screwball's bracelet on this paper. You can also have a look around her cell if you like."

Bruce thanked her and took the frequency, he'd have to use the signal boosters in the Batmobile if he wanted any chance of finding her. First though he had to investigate, there still was the mystery of how she had escaped in the first place. Once he arrived at the room itself it became apparent that no conventional means were used. What once was a steel girder lay on the floor in a viscus puddle.

That raised the question, who would go to all the trouble of smuggling in a device capable of melting steel when the bar could have been easily lifted by two? Bruce looked around for more clues, there was no security camera and the two guards that the police interviewed were at a loss as to what happened. The only other thing he found out of place was one of the asbestos ceiling tiles had two punctures in it of varying sizes.

Before leaving the asylum Bruce took a cursory look around the cell, it was a sad room, made only sadder by the fact that it was only place his father's wife had been for the better part of her adult life. Padded walls and padded floors, devoid of color. There was nothing else to learn from this scene so he departed. On his way out he found a familiar face peering into the window of the Batmobile, Detective Bulrush's plus sized plot in full view.

"What kind of spook is this guy that he can afford a cherry rig like this?" he muttered to himself.

"It's not that hard detective, I bought it with the change from my piggy bank." Bruce casually remarked. For a billionaire like him, the several million bits he'd invested into creating his car was like loose change.

"WHOH! Uh, sorry Batmane. Didn't mean to be snoopin' around your fancy car. I didn't touch nothin' so don't worry." With the pointed ears on Bruce's mask he stood a good ten inches above Bulrush.

"Believe me detective, if you had touched my car I would have known."

"You mean seeing my hoofprints all over and all that?"

Bruce shook his head, "No, this." He pulled out the remote control for the Batmobile and pressed one of the buttons, in a flash the armored shell deployed, encasing the entire vehicle in bulletproof steel. "Don't get any smart ideas about getting inside, those plates move pretty fast. Wouldn't want you to lose a hoof." Bruce said in a passive aggressive manner, he then deactivated the armor and climbed inside. "You can tell your boss I'll have her in custody by the end of the day."

"Is that right hotshot?" Bulrush asked.

"What do you need sir?" responded one of his subordinates investigating the scene.

"Not you Hotshot, I was talking about this hotshot he- What the?" Much to his surprise the car and pony he'd just been talking to had vanished without a sound. "Sneaky little freak."

*****

Screwball was having a rough time in the wilds. Not that she couldn't handle herself, but everything was getting on her nerves. The sun was too bright, there were no ballet dancing bison around and her hoof was bleeding profusely. The tracker which she'd torn off had been designed only to come off with the key, designed anyway. As she held the bloody strap creeping thoughts of doubt did their creeping at the corner of her mind.

Thoughts like, 'Why am I doing this?' and 'Is this even worth hurting myself over?' But always the answer was, 'Daddy.' Daddy had come back for her, Daddy cared for her, Daddy meant everything to her. What was a little bit of pain if it meant she was making her Daddy happy.

Still though, Screwball wondered. What would the nice ponies think about what she was doing? Mr. Suit and Die Tie, they would always be so kind to her whenever they visited, even kinder than Daddy. Was it wrong to think that?

Mr. Suit hadn't been coming for a long time, Die Tie said he was in a place like the dull room, and that he'd be there for a long time. Die Tie would always cry whenever she talked about Mr. Suit. It was a mystery to her, why they came every month. Not that she minded, to the contrary, they were the shining light that got her through the dark times. Screwball recalled Mr. Suit trying to explain once, a very long time ago.

He had used big words that she didn't understand like, marriage and pregnancy, Screwball could never understand what they meant, only that whoever Mr. Suit was he liked her allot. A few months later he started bringing a little lump of pink fluff he called a diamond, he even let her hold it, Mr. Suit kept using the word 'Daughter.' After a while the ball of fluff went away and soon Die Tie started coming to visit her as well.

Die Tie was the best, every time she would come they would play for hours and hours, dress up, piggyback rides, hide and seek. Though that game never lasted too long, there was only her bed to hide under.

There was the third one as well, the one Die Tie called 'brother'. She hated that one, whenever she touched him she could see what he truly was inside, a big hairy screeching bat. For some reason beyond her nopony else could see it and they always tried to stop her when she was doing the right thing, even Die Tie. They did the same after she kept her promise to Scary Crow, even though she tried telling them about what he was doing.

It had been several months since she made the promise, he'd forgotten completely, he didn't expect her to know how to get out of the straightjacket. But Screwball was a good girl, she kept her promises, every last one. When he had his back turned she slipped a hoof out from the restraint, grabbed the foul needle resting on the tray and plunged it deep into the sick b*#@'s left eye. Screwball recalled that memory with fondness, it had been many years that monster had given her that drug with which he lied. Now she had given him a dose of his own medicine right to his frontal lobe.

Remembering his well-earned howls of anguish and madness brought the disturbed mare back to reality, back to the air balloon basket she was sitting in. By now the wound had clotted and the blood on her fur was dried and matted, without hesitation she tossed the tracking device overboard down to the firma bellow.

Sitting across from her was a petrified balloon operator, quivering in his boots. "Please miss, I'm begging you. I'll give you everything I have, all my bits, the balloon, everything! Just please let me go! I have a wife and children, please!"

Screwball looked at the weakling stallion dispassionately, he'd barely put up a struggle before she'd 'acquired his services.' "You know, I appreciate you being so quiet while I was thinking. That was nice of you." She knelt down and picked up the box containing the overly long revolver. "If you had interrupted me I was going to use this gun my daddy gave me to kill you. I don't like getting interrupted, I'm already a filly interrupted."

"Bu-But I didn't, so you'll let me go r-right?" the little pony was practically wetting himself around her.

"Wrong! I could crush your head like a nut, but I won’t because I need you!" Screwball let out a manic laugh, "You still have to fly me there!" With the barrel of the gun she pointed upward, to the floating city of Cloudsdale, more specifically to the weather factory. "It's time to make some chaos!"

Author's Note

This is something I'd like to do with all the mane six, have a segment where we learn what they've been doing for the past fifteen years.

And as for Screwball, I like writing her as straddling the line between child trapped in an adults body and raving psychopath. But either way very tragic.

Reforging

Reforging

In the void between worlds that Discord called home, he sat there ponderously. Or floated rather, there wasn't really anything to sit on. He could have done his usual shtick of summoning forth some object, but fiddling about in this realm tended to have 'unexpected consequences.' For the moment he was content to wait and watch, Batmite had promised quite the show and he wished to see it all.

From what he could see Screwball had a classic plan, hijack the weather factory and alter the machinery to start pouring out cotton candy clouds with chocolate rain. A noble effort but without the chaos field that he himself generated such a wonderful sight would be impossible. "Oh well," muttered the trickster. "The game isn't watching an imitator of me at work, it's watching them beat the snot out of each other."

"There's another game we could play as well." came the squeaky little voice of his co-conspirator. "How's she doing?"

Discord waited for him to fully materialize before answering, anything else would be rude. "Good, good. She's halfway to the weather factory already and she's ditched that pesky tracker. Wait. What do you mean 'other game?'"

"Just that, we shouldn't be doing this. Screwball's a pony with rights and we're-"

"Screwball is my plaything. The little fool is devoted to her 'daddy.' I'm merely giving her some purpose in life."

"She had purpose in life before you robbed her of it." Batmite snapped back at him like a vicious turtle.

That raised a furious laugh from the draconequus’s belly. "Doing what, being a house wife to a stuffy business pony?"

"Yes! That was her choice." Now came the tricky part. On a scale of power he wasn't sure who was the alpha, himself or Discord. If he didn't handle this right he'd be finding out real soon. "I want you to fix her."

"My dear imp, she's perfectly unsound the way she is."

"I want you to give that mare back her sanity, you've already hurt her more than anyone ever should."

"Oh ho, that's rich coming from the one who talked me into reactivating her in the first place. I was content to let her decay into nill before you came along."

Batmite was truly offended by his statement, "You, you really don't care about anything other than yourself do you."

"I'm an amoral psychopath who gets his kicks from spreading chaos. Whatever gave you the impression that I care?" Batmite didn't have an answer.

"Fine, you’re a bastard, I'll concede that. But there must be something that will make you want to cure her, anything?"

Discord his placed claw to his goateed chin, "Well, I suppose the only reason we picked her in the first place was for convenience's sake. After all's said and done I care not who our little bat is fighting, just so long as he is fighting."

A thought occurred to Batmite, a thought he knew he would come to regret later. "I propose this, why settle for the bargain bin Joker? We can have the genuine article."

"Really?" The manipulator was intrigued, "You would unleash him on this world?"

If Batmite were capable of sweating he would be swimming in his suit right now. "Yes. Just so long as you do as I ask and cure Screwball."

A devious smile inched across Discord's facial features, "Well I could, but what would that do for our little story we're weaving? Wouldn't it make more sense for little Bruce to be the one to save her?"

"I suppose, how would he do that though? I thought your powers were beyond any pony magic."

"Oh they are, I assure you. But there are artifacts like the Elements of Harmony that can circumvent my power. I know of one that would suit the situation nicely."

"So, I return to Gotham and retrieve the Joker and in return you will give Batman the artifact he needs? Do we have a deal?" Batmite held out his gloved hand for a shake, 'Oh I'll bring him into Equestria you monster, but nowhere you can get your hands on him.'

Discord shook on it with his eagle talon, crossing this fingers of his paw behind his back. 'I'll give it to him, but only if he makes a sacrifice no 'hero' ever would.'

After shaking for a good couple seconds both took an imaginary step away from each other. Neither taking their eyes off the other, "Alright, I'd better be off, I expect to see Screwball happily reunited with her family by the time I get back."

"I'm not a miracle worker imp, but I'll try." He waved him off, once the mite was gone from the formless realm Discord returned to watching the Batman. "Oh you poor little pony, I can only imagine what this will do to your conscience. It's a good thing I don't have one then isn't it? Bwa ha huh ha!" Discord chortled. He would have to begin planning how exactly he would tempt this hero.

A simple choice

Cruising along the wooded lanes of what once was the Everfree forest it should have been a relaxing experience. Of course nothing about what Bruce was in the middle of could be called relaxing. The little radar monitor consistently blipping, signaling how far he was form his target, his father's wife and by proxy his adoptive mother.

Nothing about the situation was gelling. He'd expected her to go for the nearest populated area or some abandoned factory or the like to hide out in. But every map of the area he had in the Batmobile's computer said the direction she was headed was uninhabited and undeveloped. A sickening churn was forming in his stomach.

A few more minuets of driving along and he was right on top of the signal with no insane mare in sight. Only a bloodied ankle bracelet laying in the center of the road, it's plastic housing cracked slightly. Bruce sat in his idling car, looking at the object in despair, his day had just became far more difficult.

After retrieving it he placed the tracking device in an evidence bag for further study. On initial inspection the housing looked like it had been run over, but there were no tire marks. The little metal barbs that were supposed to keep the bracelet in place were covered in blood and clumps of fur, the whole device seemed barbaric. Other than that the device yielded no other clues, with an absence of other leads he began tuning the radio to police frequencies in hopes of finding some indicator of Screwball's whereabouts.

The only thing left was deduction, seeing as he was alone on the stretch of road Bruce allowed himself to reason aloud. "There were no hoofprints and walking on hot pavement would be very uncomfortable. Maybe she got a ride on a passing truck? No that doesn't make sense, why would she be driving out this way? The only town for hundreds of miles is Dodge Junction."

He mulled the thought over and over again in his head, just when he was coming to some kind of clarity a voice announced itself. "Excuse me, but I may be of assistance." When he spun round Bruce was greeted by a devious looking unicorn, a coat of dull grey and eyes of piercing yellow. "You are looking for the mare who escaped are you not?"

"I, yes I am. Where did you come from? I didn't hear you approach."

The stranger ignored the question, "I just so happened to be passing by when I saw her. If you act fast you could stop her!"

Before Bruce could ask any other questions a second voice joined, "Don't listen to that fool, he doesn't know what he's saying!" It was a pegasus with the same coloration as the unicorn. "If you listen to him then I won't help you cure her."

"I say the same! Listen to that feather head and I'll never tell where I saw her go." The unicorn crossed his two front hooves but remained uprite, breaking all the laws of physics.

Already Bruce was loosing his patience, whoever these were, they were trying to pull something over on him. "I see, well gentlecolts it seems you two have some issues to workout and I'm still busy. Good day." As he began walking back to his car it had the desired effect. The two ponies rushed to block his way.

"Wait! Do not be so hasty. Are you not interested in what we have to offer?"

"Yes, we have much, very tangible rewards for you."

"And what assurance do I have you could even help me? For all I know you're just patients that escaped along side Screwball." Now was the time to see them back up their claims.

"Ah, he want's a demonstration!" The unicorn took his hooves and puled at the corner of the universe, ripping a hole in it's fabric. "I can show you anything and anywhere. I can even send you anywhere or anywhen you want." The scenes flashing by in the window were all important moments from Bruce's life in Equestria.

His first day, the day Diamond first called him her brother, the day he figured out what Dimple was, his first kiss. All happy memories, ones he wouldn't mind revisiting, then came the back alley and Chill. "Stop it. Stop this now!" The unicorn obeyed, pulling the tear closed.

Next the pugasus spoke up, "He may be able to take you places, but he knows nothing. If you trust in me I can teach you everything you would ever want to know. Even how to cure the poor mare." The two took their place side by side, "So what will it be Batman? Will you choose me and cure her?"

"Or me and I will bring you right to her? You can stop Screwball from harming anypony right now, all you have to do is choose."

Bruce felt like he was swimming inside his own head, something about the way they spoke was blurring his mind. In the foggy haze it was almost as if he could see little strings attached to the ponies limbs reaching far into the cloudless sky. Using every ounce of focus he had he could sus out the shape of the puppeteer, tall and misshaped, with two horns unlike each other.

'Horns? Why did that stick out to Bruce? It was something from before but in this current state of mind his memory was a jumble, whatever the cause it left a feeling of unease and distrust. "So then, you want me to choose. The quick option that will spare lives in the short term or the option that will distract me from my search but promises a permanent cure." Both ponies nodded in unison.

Bruce knew what option he had to take, he was a hero or at the very least aspiring to be one. His self imposed duty was toward Equestria, to Ponyville, to it's citizens. He had to choose the option that would save lives.

But he was more than just Batman, he was Bruce Wayne, son of Filthy Rich and Brother of Diamond Tiara. They were his only family and he owed the world to them both. And if there was even a ghost of a chance that what this manipulator was saying was true, then he had to try and find the cure that was being offered.

"I'll chose you," he said pointing to the pegasus. "Tell me how to cure her."

The winged pony smiled, revealing a long singular tooth more belonging on a manticore than a pegasus. "The way to cure Screwball is simple. In the Predawn Museum is a modest, unassuming little amulet. Nopony pays it any attention since it's just a piece of patina bronze. But it carries the power to return her to 'normal.'" The unicorn beside him took a step back and faded from view, next the pegasus did so as well. "My end of the bargain is paid, so I bid you a good rescue and nightmares of the ponies you've doomed for the rest of your life."

Before he was gone completely Bruce grabbed hold of the mirage by the wings, and pulled it's face next to his. "IF anypony dies, then it will not be on my head alone. IF anypony dies then I'll be coming for whatever is pulling your strings." The wings came off in his hooves as if they were held on with nothing more than craft glue, finaly the wingless pegasus faded away.

'IF anypony dies, that's the big IF. I must hurry. As fast as his hooves could carry him he ran to the Batmobile and pulled a U-turn, back to Ponyville. The whole way praying that this was the right decision.

*****

The plan was simple, go into the museum in disguise, talk with the proprietor and purchase the artifact. Bruce would be going in as Spruce Wane, lumber tycoon and aspiring art collector. To add to the look he was wearing a burly false mustache, a toque to cover his very recognizable mane as well as a fake cutie mark of a tree over his own. On his way inside Bruce was practicing the voice, a Vanhoofer accent would do nicely.

The Predawn Museum, so named for collecting artifacts from before Celestia and Luna became Equestria's rulers, raising the sun and moon over everypony. For noon it was pretty empty, a few elderly mares and their grandchildren wandering through the halls of Starswirl the Bearded, one solitary stallion enjoying the pre classical era artworks. What piece Bruce wanted was sitting in a neglected corner of the least viewed section.

It was just as the pony had described, a bronze amulet coated in a film of greenish patina. It didn't have any special name attached to it like, 'Starswirl the Bearded's lucky talisman.' It just had a yellowed paper tag stating the year it was unearthed and the supposed purpose of the object. The placard described it as a prototype 'magic null' and that it was defective.

The doctor's had tried using such enchantments in Screwball's treatment in the past, but they'd had no effect. "What makes you so special then?"

Unexpectedly somepony answered him, "Nothing much I'm afraid." It belonged to a fopish unicorn with stubby little legs.

Quickly Bruce assumed the Vanhoofer ascent he'd been practicing, "Soory, didn't hear ya comin' or I woulda intraduced myself. Names Spruce Wane doncha know." He held out his hoof for a friendly shake, but the unicorn declined.

"Terribly sorry, I've been sick with the pony pox, wouldn't want to spread it around."

"Oh ya, ya. My little niece just came down with that last week. I tell ya, my sister Pine Bark. She used to be Pine Wane but that was before she married my buddy from the mill, anywho, she's been running round like a dog chasing it's own tail trying to care for the poor filly." It may have been stereotyping but it was working, the poor underplayed museum worker looked like he was ready to crawl out of his fur if it meant getting away from this gibbering lunatic.

"I ... see."

"Anywho, I was just admiring this pretty little necklace thingamagig you got here. Do ya think you could tell me more about it?"

Relief was on his face, "Ah yes I can. In actuality we don't know much about this particular null, from the radio carbon dating we can estimate it originates during the period in between Equestria's founding and the end of Discord's reign as king." That peaked Bruce's attention, the same name Fluttershy had mentioned. "As the tag says as a magic null it's defective, or perhaps it was a prototype. The amulet does emit a anti field of magic but it's on no wavelengths that anypony is capable of using."

"What if it's ah, for the what's it called? Chaos magic?"

"You mean to say it was meant to defend against Discord's magic? Yes there is a theory floating about that, unfortunately we have no way of testing that theory. And at any rate it would be pointless if it was, the last I heard of Discord he'd been reformed or something to that effect." It was amazing to Bruce how dismissive this stallion was.

"So then if it's as useless as you're sayin' it is, do you think I could take it off your hooves? I recently came into some money and I'm wanting to invest in some art, this here trinket's caught my fancy."

"I'm sorry Mr. Wane, any sale of museum property must be approved first by the board of trustees." His tone was less apologetic and more condescending. If Bruce were a mind reader he would heave heard, 'As if I'd ever sell an artifact to a backwoods pig b*&%er like you.

This wasn't going good, he was sure this is what he needed but negotiating would take time, time he didn't have. He could always try his father's method, what was it that Filthy had said, "I implore you to reconsider." A request backed up with a hefty bribe of gems, no Bruce wouldn't do that, he may have odored his father at one point but he'd never stoop down to his dirty practices.

Instead Bruce would do something morally questionable, he was going to steal it. "Sweet Celestia! Is that a foal climbing onto the Pliohippus exhibit?"

"Oh no, not again! Can't you little brats read?! It says do not touch the exhibits!" Angrily the stubby unicorn stormed off to rain fury upon disrespectful children, leaving Bruce alone to accomplish his goal.

Underneath the tuque he was wearing he'd hidden some of the tools from his utility belt, the one he wanted in particular was a little plasma torch no larger than a lipstick tube. With a click the blue flame lit up, it cut through the glass like butter. There was no security protecting this particular artifact, as the stallion had explained in the eyes of the archaeological community it was practically worthless. He took the amulet and placed it under his hat, but before leaving he felt guilty.

He also had a few thousand paper bits on him so he dropped those off in the donation box on his way out along with a note apologizing in a very Vanhoover way. 'Soory for taking your necklace thingy, I'm afraid I just couldn't help myself.' He was out the door before anypony noticed, but by the time he reached the Batmobile several blocks down the road alarm bells and police sirens were blaring through the air.

"Well, I have it. Assuming it even is the genuine article how am I going to get it to her if I don't know where she is?" As if the universe itself was answering him a little fluffy pink cloud floated above Bruce and began dumping it's contents on his head. "Is this- chocolate rain?" As the cartoonish meteorological phenomenon continued to drench Batman in delicious diary products his eyes turned skyward to it's source.

Coming out of the smoke stack of Equestria's only mobile city was a steady stream of unnatural clouds. Already unaware pegasi were getting caught in their sticky trap, if Bruce were a betting stallion he'd wager Screwball was inside that weather factory. Now came the tricky part, how to get there.

Quickly he hoped inside the Batmobile and dialed the dedicated line to home, after a few rings his butler picked up. "Rich manor, may I ask who is calling?"

"It's me Randolph, tell me have you seen the sky lately?"

"You are referring to the cotton candy clouds? Yes I've seen them, though at first I attributed them to me going senile."

"You're not going senile old colt." Bruce warmly assured his friend, "You've got plenty more years left in you."

"While I appreciate the sentiment master Wayne, was there something you required of me? I was in the process of hammering out the bullet impacts from your body armor."

"Randolph you may have to put that on hold for the moment, is my jet fueled and ready?"

"Your concord jet is always ready to fly at a moments notice sir, all you have to do is call the airport and-"

"Not that jet."

"Master Wayne I'd highly advise against using that craft, it's never been test flown." the Butler's voice raised ever so slightly.

"No choice Randolph, I don't know what I'll be flying into and I may need an edge. Fuel it up, I need to be ready to take off in ten minuets." Bruce hung up the receiver before the inevitable objections came through, at top speed the Batmobile pushed through the city streets racing against a clock with no hands.

*****

Things were looking up for Screwball, she was setting hoof in a place few earth ponies ever had, the Cloudsdale weather factory. Well maybe not setting hoof herself, instead she was riding on the back of a pegasus with a gun pointed at his head. The deal was he gave her a piggyback ride anywhere she wanted and in return she wouldn't decorate the walls with his grey matter. He wasn't the only hostage, she had a whole gaggle of pegasi gagged and their wings bound.

An elaborate trap was holding them suspended above what in lay terms was the cloud making machine. If anypony so much as budged any of the doors a trip wire would send them falling into the access port to be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Instead of raining chocolate milk Ponyville would be receiving heavy showers of blood with a slight chance of gore.

She was doing everything her daddy had asked of her, Screwball was being a good girl the only way she knew how. Now she had only to wait, the big hairy bat would come, she would beat the snot out of him but not kill him, just as daddy had made her promise.

'Still he'd better hurry' Screwball thought to herself, 'There sure are allot of police outside.'

With every minute one more airborne lawpony took position outside the building. At least a dozen snipers dotted the roof tops, waiting for the split second when their target would be in view. To anypony watching the scene one thing was clear, the day wouldn't end peacefully.

Author's Note

I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far, and if your not please let me know. I've noticed a decline in views lately. I'm not sure if it's me just missing the time when people are looking for new stories to get into or if it's my writing.

What I'm trying to get at is feel free to leave a comment on chapters, any chapter. I read every comment I get and it helps motivate me to try harder.

Hello stranger

Author's Note

Warning: Chapter contains adult ponies doing adult things with each other. Nothing explicit mind you, but if your not comfortable with sexy times then maybe give this chapter a skip.

Hello stranger

To say Filthy Rich was on edge was an understatement, a more apt description would be sick with anxiety. Ever since his conversation with Diamond Tiara, old feelings had been resurfacing. The gut wrenching disgust in himself for not being able to help the mare he vowed to spend the rest of his life with, among others.

In a vain attempt to distract himself he buried himself at the office, intentionally taking on more work than he could handle. Technically as the C.E.O. he didn't have to do any meeting with potential clients. But Bruce had called in a personal day and the other reps employed there were in Filthy's humble opinion, little more than mewling kittens only recently weened off the tit of higher education. A fancy way of saying they were qualified but without much real life experience.

Sitting in front of him was a very nervous couple fresh out of college themselves by their look. They were pitching a tech startup with some prototype, something to do with molecules or the like. He didn't really care what it was at the moment, he'd have Bruce take a look at it latter on, he was much better at this techno stuff than he ever would be. In the end this was just a distraction, anything to keep from thinking about the inevitable phone call.

And he knew exactly how it would start-

*BRIINGGG*

Hastily he picked up the receiver and raised it to his ear, "Filthy Rich speaking."

It was exactly what he'd feared, "Mr. Rich, this is Doctor Redheart at Our Lady of Kindness general hospital."

"H-how can I help you d-doctor?"

"It's about your wife Mr. Rich." He knew it, something had happened. She'd hurt herself or somepony else while she was running free and now it was to late.

"Please tell me she's alright, oh Celestia tell me she's alright."

"That's why I'm calling Mr. Rich, she's just now regaining consciousness and she's asking to see you."

That was odd, he thought if anypony she'd want to see Diamond, or as she called her 'Die Tie.' "I suppose I should get down there now, she can be pretty unruly with ponies she doesn't recognize."

"Actually Screwball is quite calm, confused but calm. Right now she's anxious to talk to her husband."

'Husband?' Filthy let the phone drop from his hooves, his face went blank. "I-I'm sorry, I'm going to have to cut our meeting short. You understand don't you?" Without waiting for them to leave Filthy had already gathered his coat and hat and was nearly out the door. The hopefuls tried to pry his attention to show off one more feature but he couldn't be stopped.

Before he knew it he was standing outside the hospital, how he'd gotten there was a complete blur. He remembered little things like the valet getting his car and parts of the drive over but his mind was focused only on the words of the doctor. Her husband.

When he arrived the receptionist showed him to the room, oddly enough it wasn't on the psych ward as he was expecting. Filthy didn't know what to expect, what shape she'd be in or what to say, nervously he pushed the door open.

He couldn't have been prepared for what he saw. Sitting calmly on the hospital bet with the little leeches attached to monitor her vitals, Screwball was being interviewed by the mare who ran the asylum. She wasn't screaming or rambling like a lunatic, she was just acting like any sane pony would.

"Screwball, is that really you?"

*****

Inside the confines of Rich manor a similar reunion was taking place, Bruce with his longtime marefriend. He was just now getting home lying on the bed and currently leaking blood all over it. Silver was there with needle and thread, suture and bandage, gauze and antiseptic. Though never trained in medicine she was quickly becoming a well versed armature doctor.

Deftly the needle passed in and out of his torn flesh, pulling it together to mend. "So, are you going to tell me how it happened?"

"I got shot with my own grappling hook." The needle paused in it's work as Silver's hoof trembled, once she calmed herself she resumed the surgery. "I also lost the jet."

"Jesus Christ Bruce!" Silver shouted, the words didn't have any real meaning to Silver, only that Bruce occasionally used them as an exploitative. "You have computers on that jet, flight recorders! What if somepony gets in there and finds out who you are? Who took it anyway?"

"Don't yell at me. I know who has it and it's safe, for the moment anyway. It's under lock and key in the Cloudsdale impound. I'll just use the remote pilot to take it back."

"Oh right, nothing suspicious about a jet plane flying off into the sunset on it's own. And what are you planning to do about that big ol' flesh wound huh? Let's see what was it, did you cut yourself shaving?" There was a certain amount of vitriol in her words, something he wasn't quite used to.

"Oh and what would the great Silver Spoon suggest, hmm? Maybe I should just climb under a rock for a couple of weeks?"

"Don't patronize me! You think just because you go flying around the city in a Nightmare Nights costume that makes you better than me?"

"Yes, well to a certain extent yes. I'm going out and saving ponies lives, what do you do all day? Shop?"

"Shopping! Why you slimy little- Do you even know what I do all day? Huh do you?" Bruce was about to retort with, 'of course I know because of the tracking devices.' But he decided against that. "Half my time is spent just trying to keep your sorry excuse for a social life from imploding in on itself. Every day I have to explain away why you can't be bothered to appear at charity functions or why we had to turn down a personal invitation from the princesses to the Grand Galloping Gala."

"To be fair honey the gala had nothing to do with me being Batman, it's just a boring party."

"Oh I'm sure Princess Luna would be interested to hear you say that."

"Is that a threat?"

"I don't know, I thought nothing could get under the skin of Bruce Wayne."

"I know the one pony who can." Both their eyes locked and their breathing became heavy, their little shouting match had sparked something else entirely. "I'll get the wine!"

"I'll get the socks!" The two darted from each other, only to reconvene upstairs in the master bedroom. Bruce arrived with a bottle of pinot in hoof along with two glasses expertly balanced on his nose. Silver was already waiting on the bed, bright red silk stockings covered her from hoof to thigh. "What took you so long?"

*****

Their conjugation was sweet as it was swift, to say it was long overdue would be unfortunately accurate. After the asylum directer Fluttershy had left, convinced that she posed no threat to anypony for the moment. Both Filthy and Screwball became overwhelmed by the nearly three decades apart, he slipped the nurse on duty a few bits so that they would be undisturbed. Though a hospital bed was hardly built for that sort of thing it served their purpose.

A few minuets of sweet motion and they could feel the pleasure washing over them like waves of the sea, pulling away the years as if they were in their twenties once more. "That was, wonderful." Filthy sighed.

"Kinda kinky too, when you think about it." Screwball said from her reclined position, "Reminds me of when we used to sneak back to the store room of Barnyard Bargains to do it."

"Remember when dad walked in on us? I swear we almost gave that old goat a heart attack."

"Where is that sack of- Well you know. Where is he nowadays?"

"He died in hospital about fifteen years ago, of heart attack ironically. I'll let you know he stayed true to himself to the bitter end."

"So a cantankerous bastard who only cared for himself?"

"MmHmm."

Screwball smiled with satisfaction, Dirty Rich had always been nasty towards her, even threatening to have her deported if she didn't leave Filthy. Not that she believed for a moment that the old codger had that kind of pull, still such things just aren't done. "So who else am I going to find missing the next time I stroll down memory lane?"

"Oh, all the ponies you'd expect. The old guard, the fire fighters and the drinkers, though would you believe old Granny Smith is still kickin'?"

"From the Apple Family? How old is she? I swear she must have been in her seventies when I was just a filly." Her satisfied smile transformed into one of comfort then it became tinged with nervousness. "Filthy can you take me home now? I know it looks like I'm calm right now but inside this place is making me crawl. I can't stand the way everypony looks at me, like I'm about to jump them if their not careful."

"Well, only yesterday that would have been the thing you'd be suspect of doing."

"Huh?"

Filthy took his wife's hooves in his, "Dear, how much do you remember, about anything before waking up in this hospital?"

"It's all a blur. I can remember little bits, like you coming to visit and that one awful doctor and and, Oh FILTHY I remember the nightmares he gave me!"

"I know dear, everypony now knows what Dr. Crane was doing to the patients. Rest assured he'll never be allowed to hurt you or anypony else again. You're to thank for that." If she didn't remember then he certainly wasn't going to tell his traumatized wife that she stabbed him in the eye effectively lobotomizing the monster. "I'll try to getting you discharged right away."

"And then we can go home?"

"Well... Home is a bit different from what you remember."

"Don't tell me you lost the manor. I loved that place ever so."

"No no, Rich manor is still in the family. It's being lived in by the kids now."

"Kids? As in plural? Is there something I should know Filthy?"

"Ah, no you misunderstand. It must have been about fifteen years ago, I took in an orphaned colt named Bruce. Now it's him and our little Diamond who have the manor."

"Well that's noble of you." She drew silent for a moment as the sad reality dawned on her, "I suppose our little girl is all grown up now. And I was never there for her."

"Now don't you fret darling, Diamond turned out just fine. She might be a tad bit temperamental at times but she grew into a beautiful, talented and intelligent mare. But you don't have to take my word for it, we'll be meeting her in business park later on today."

"Are you sure? I don't know if I'm ready for this. What if she hates me? Or doesn't want to-"

"Shh, she's going to love you. Your her mother and the pony she's be wanting to know her entire life. And I'll be there with you the whole time. Now, lets see about getting those discharge papers done already." Filthy got up off the bed and exited to hospital room, not before giving her one more gleeful smile. While Screwball didn't share his same optimism she had to admit, she couldn't wait to meet the pony her baby had become.

Pillow talk

The room was lit with soft candle light and filled with the odor of Silver Spoon's perfume, a pleasant aroma of water lilies and freshly clipped grass. After all the stress the two of them had gone through this was just what they needed, time alone together to relieve the awful tension that had plagued the young couple. No phone calls, no spotlights in the sky, just Bruce and Silver, once the rustling under the sheets came to it's satisfied end both ponies emerged.

"Oh Mr. Wayne, you are no colt. Your a stallion!"

"And you Miss Spoon are a mare like no other." The two locked lips as best as ponies could with their elongated muzzles, while awkward the kiss carried their affection for each other and they both felt it. "Silver, I'm sorry for what I said before, I know you do so much for us. And I never want you to think I don't appreciate that."

"It's me who should be apologizing Bruce. I got so worked up and, well to be honest, scared. I haven't said anything to you cause I didn't want to distract you while your doing your work. But I can't stop worrying about you Bruce, every time it's like I'm never going to see you again, and knowing how close you we came to that ... it was too much."

"You know if there's ever anything you need to say then I'll be there to listen, honest." And he meant it. "There is one thing, maybe you can help me with."

Silver propped herself up, "Oh, ready for round two already?"

"No not that," she seemed disappointed. "It's something to do with this whole superhero thing. Well ever since I started crime fighting it seems everypony I save or even interact with doesn't take me seriously. Oats, Fluttershy, even the dammed hostages I rescued, they all had something to say about my name."

"Well what's wrong with that? Everypony has a right to their own opinions."

"Yeah well everypony's opinion seems to be that Batman is a stupid name." Silver was staying very silent on the matter. "Oh god not you too!"

"I never said it was stupid Bruce, never said that."

"Well what then?!"

"It's just, well... What exactly is a 'man' anyway?" Bruce was about to explain but Silver placed a hoof to his lips. "That was rhetorical dear, you've explained it to me before. And that's the problem, you had to explain. 'Man' isn't a word in pony vocabulary, it's stallion here."

"So you're saying I should change it? Go around as 'Batmane' or something else?"

"No not at all Bruce, this super heroics thing is your mission, you're responsibility. Something as important as you're name is a choice only you can make." A soured look crossed her brow, "Although... You're not exactly the same person you were in the world you came from. You use different methods, and from what you described you seem allot more forgiving than the 'other you.' Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to differentiate yourself. Bottom line, it's your choice."

"Urgh, thanks Silver, that clears my problem right up." He said sarcastically.

"Hey, don't take that tone with me. You asked me to listen and I did."

"Hmm, I guess, well you're right. I'll have to think about this some more later. I wonder what I should tackle next though, Screwball escaping from the asylum threw a wrench into my timetable. I was going to try and start putting the squeeze on mob business."

"Well what's stopping you?"

"This-" Bruce searched around the nightstand his hooves returning with a week old edition of the Ponyville Gazette. "Here on page twenty, the mad arsonist of Hooflyn."

"Oh yeah, I think I've read about him, or it could be a her I suppose. Setting fires in low rent sections of Hooflin and no trace left behind. So you want to catch him next?"

"Not want, need. So far nopony's died in any of these fires but it's only a matter of time. Besides Hooflyn is so rough the police hate even going there, I doubt they'd have any luck catching this criminal."

"Your not going to start right now are you?"

"No, I have to make some preparations first. Flame retardant suit, micro fire extinguishers for my utility belt, that sort of thing."

"Good, cause I was hoping we could do something for your father and Screwball tonight."

"Really, what's that?"

"Well she's been ... out of it for a really long time, I think a nice dinner party with some old friends and the family would be a great way for her to ease back into things. Plus it would give you a good opportunity to get to know her when she's not actively trying to kill you."

He gave the suggestion some thought, it sounded appealing and he let her know so. "So who'd we invite?"

"Well I know my parents and them were friends back in the day. I think my mom might have gone to high school with her or something like that. Who else?"

"Um, we could try inviting Oats. Not sure if he'd accept though, he and dad haven't exactly been on speaking terms since his release."

"It doesn't hurt to ask, and if he does accept I'm sure we can keep things civil between the two." Silver marked Oats off on her mental checklist. "Well if we're going with a 'law enforcement' theme we might as well invite Dimple and his family, plus his dad works for yours so that's a tangible connection. I'm sure we can find some other ponies as well, I'll start phoning them and-"

"Silver?"

"Hmm?"

"Make sure to wait until after we 'officially' find out she's been cured. Be kind of a dead giveaway if we start planning the party before then." It wasn't often that Bruce got to be on the other side of warning the mate of a potential flub.

"Nice catch, so then what are we supposed to do until we 'officially' find out then?"

"I can think of a few things." With a swift motion he pounced atop his lover."

"I thought you said you weren't ready for round two."

"I never said that, never."

Author's Note

Part of this chapter's content is based on my feelings about the story as a whole. I feel things got derailed, I aim to correct that by returning to my original idea of Bruce tackling a wide variety of villeins in the up coming chapters.

Excitement and insecurity

Excitement and insecurity

The park was a peaceful place this time of day, plenty of business ponies out and about grabbing a quick lunch before being dragged back into the corporate titans they worked for. There were a few foals flying kites under the watchful gaze of their parents as well as a swan boat paddling clumsily across the placid pond.

Diamond for her part was sitting tensely on one of the memorial benches, a little placard with 'In memory of Gray Mare' was etched onto the brass. 'Kind of sad when you think of it.' She internalized. Years of leadership and dedication and the only thing left to memorialize the former mayor was a park bench. Even if her exit from office was less than savory she was a much better elected official than the current mayor, an officious little prick by the name of Pipsqueak.

Well bygone embezzlers and current fatheads did little to hold her attention. Her entire purpose behind coming here was yet to arrive, it had taken all her restraint not to come running when her father had called, even more to hide the fact that she knew what the surprise he had in store was. For the first time in her life, Diamond Tiara was going to meet her real mother, not the insane husk rambling in the asylum, but the mare Filthy had fallen in love with and together created her.

She had all the expected questions to ask and more, it would be hard to find out where to start. "So mom, what was your life like before you became ill? Do you remember us coming to visit all those times? Am I the kind of pony you hoped I'd be-"

"Princess there you are!" said the booming voice of her father, any rehearsal of the questions was over now. "I'm glad you could come on such short notice."

"For you daddy I always have the time. So where should we eat?"

"Actually princess there is something rather important we need to discuss before hoof."

"Oh really? What's that?" Diamond could hardly suppress the excitement.

Filthy took a seat beside his daughter, "Do you remember what we were talking about yesterday in my office? About your mother?"

"Yes."

"Well something has come up that taking care of your mother won't be possible anymore."

"Oh Celestia, you don't mean she got hurt out there do you? She's not..." To finish her own thought Diamond already knew perfectly well that Screwball wasn't dead or injured, anything for the act.

"Actually dear it's something miraculous. We don't quite know how but when she was admitted to the hospital last night, well why don't I just let her tell you herself." As he motioned to the pretzel stand out walked a mare she'd seen her entire life, but not quite. Gone was the silly green propeller beanie, now she accessorized with a beautiful bronze necklace of sorts. Gone too was her youthful skin, no longer forced that way by constant smiling it now rested in a more natural pallor.

Cautiously she walked out as if afraid any wrong move would result in disaster, that only lasted until the mare caught sight of her reflection, her daughter. In that instant she was beyond joy, it was ecstasy. But it was also sorrow, regret over the life never lived. "I- I- I- I'm your-"

"Mother!" For as much mental preparation Diamond Tiara had been making, nothing could ever have prepared her for that moment. It had been twenty four years, the entire span of her life without ever being acknowledged as her child and now that was hers. Even though it hurt like all Tartarus to run with her pulled mussel she did anyway, all the way to embrace her mother. "It really is true, you are my mother!"

"Yes princess, I am." With tears in her eyes she stroked the her mane, noting how closely it resembled her own.

"How did you know, that ponies call me princess? I suppose daddy told you."

"Actually Diamond it was your mother who started that trend, she wanted to make sure you were always treated like a princess your whole life."

"We always hoped you'd aspire to great things, maybe even one day to become one yourself." Screwball wiped the tears away, never letting her grip loosen.

'Become a princess myself huh? I suppose that's why daddy would buy me all the Princess Cadence dolls.' "I guess I'm a big disappointment then. All I've ever done is get my M.B.A. and become a professional athlete representing Ponyville in the Equestria Games."

"That's, wow, that's good. That's amazing! My daughter is an athlete! Filthy why didn't you tell me my daughter is a champion?" Sheer excitement and pride permeated her being, screw princess-hood, she had a daughter who would inspire ponies across the globe.

"I'm not a champion... yet. The games wont start for a few months and the competition will be fierce."

"But if it's you out there then it's already a shoe in. I just cant believe this, my daughter the star. Is this what your cutie mark means?"

"What this old thing?" Diamond said in reference to the tiara plastered on her flank. "No it has nothing to do with sports, I got my cutie mark when I realized that I could get anypony to do what I wanted. Most ponies thought I was cruel but I was just doing what I'm best at." Well that was then and this was now, even if it was her special talent Diamond wasn't ever going to abuse her talent the same way she did back when she was a filly. "Do you mind me asking, what does your cutie mark mean? I've always wanted to know."

Screwball peered down at her own flank, the large screw being driven into a baseball was a vivid picture but didn't easily convey her destiny realized. "You know for the longest time I didn't even know myself. I thought maybe I was really good at pitching but that wasn't right. It was only after I married your father that I truly knew, I'm only good at throwing screwballs into ponies lives. Getting pregnant out of nowhere, loosing myself to madness and now coming back. Oh Celestia I'm just ruining everypony's lives, I don't deserve to be here."

The sudden swing in emotion caught Diamond off guard, so much so she didn't have time to react before Screwball ran off further into the park. "Mom wait! What's going on daddy?"

"Damned if I know. Come on let's go find her." Searching high and low yielded only a trail of tears leading to the street corner. She was trying, unsuccessfully to hail a cab. "Dear, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to leave. I'm going to drive out into the desert and bury myself in the sand."

"Why would you ever want to do a thing like that?"

"Because I've only ever brought pain into your lives, I don't deserve anything as good as you after all the pain I caused." Once again she tried hailing a cab, each yellow car passing by without paying heed. "For ponies sake, I can't even do this right!"

"Mom, Screwball listen to me. I know that this couldn't have been easy for you either, but if you think leaving would spare me some pain then you're wrong. You getting in a cab and disappearing would be the biggest screwball in my life. I've spent every day wishing and hoping to know you, I know it's selfish of me to say but don't take that opportunity away from me. Please!"

"When I took you as my own I took the bad and the good, I promised to love and cherish both. I won't force you to stay but I'd at least appreciate an opportunity to talk about it before. So please, come back with us." Filthy held out a hoof towards his wife, desperately hoping she would take it.

"Are you sure? Because I-"

"There's nothing to be unsure about mom. We're going to stick with you like glue, me, daddy, Bruce, all of us." Diamond too held out a hoof and the mare didn't hesitate to take it.

"I promise I'll try not to screw things up any more for you than I already have." Rather than try to argue the fact that she'd never directly screwed her over, Diamond let the matter drop. Some ponies needed a modicum of self loathing, however unhealthy that was.

"And I promise I'll always forgive you, no matter how badly you do." Mother and daughter embraced once more, this time with more tensity. It was clear that whatever had robbed her of a sane mind for those many year had left her in a state of emotional imbalance, no magical amulet could supplement what she truly needed now. Lots of time, love and patience. "Come on mom, why don't we get something to eat?"

Screwball nodded and accepted the invitation, her feelings were in shambles at the moment and the only way she could rationalize them was severe low blood sugar. "Is there some place that does milk shakes around here? I could really go for one."

"You like milkshakes too!?"

"Who doesn't! I remember going to Mr. Frostie's malt shop every day for one, that's what became Sugar Cube Corner later on. And you gotta make sure to get the tin they mix it in as well, otherwise it's like your paying full price for half a milk shake!"

Filthy listened contently to his wife prattle on about the virtues of a frosted glass of frozen cow's milk. He was worried of course but for different reasons than his daughter. She'd always been like this, to a lesser degree. Filthy worried because of what might catch up, something you can't exactly get of your chest unless you're trying to drive everypony you care about away. Still, as long as it wasn't a problem he wouldn't bring it up.

For the moment he was just going to enjoy this time by the ponies he loved. "Don't forget about the Maraschino cherry dear. It's no good without that on top!"

Author's Note

One more chapter before the story undergoes some structural changes. If you want details you can read my latest blog update.

Who's coming to dinner?

It had taken some finnagleing and quite allot of gumption to get everypony to dinner on such short notice, but that was something Silver Spoon excelled at. Everypony had RSVP'ed and the spread was ready, as Filthy was fond of saying, 'Spared no expense.' Bruce had taken the precaution of wearing a full dress suit to mask his recent in-house outpatient surgery. Silver too decided to dress up, donning her scarlet dress that beautifully contrasted her naturally dull fur.

The guests came in packs, first Silver's parents rolling up to the manor in a long sleek roadster from Germaney. Photo Finish and Hoity Toity were dressed as over the top and gaudy as ever, a look not complimented by their now visible signs of aging. Next up was Dimple and his family driving in a beat up wagon, very fitting of a pony living off the salary of a public servant. Soon after them came the commissioner along side his wife and daughter. With the guests arrived it was time to start the feast and everypony was called into the dining room.

Bruce had them arranged in such a way so as to promote conversation and hopefully avoid conflict. Namely having Filthy, Diamond and Screwball placed at the far end of the table away from Oats. With a glass of wine served to each of the guests and a glass of grape juice for the fifteen year old Chaff, Bruce stood up to propose a toast. "I'm truly glad that everypony could be here on such short notice, but our family felt that this was such an occasion that should be shared as soon as possible."

"Here here!" Sounded Dimple.

"We're all well aware of the trials you've had to deal with Screwball so we're not going to bring up any bad memories. What we will do is lay a foundation for health and happiness in this family of friends." Bruce raised his glass as did the others. "To Screwball and Filthy and may their happiness never be cut short again!"

Each took a sip or gulp, though Dimple's father downed the whole glass in one go. "Here we are enjoying this fine wine and feasting our eyes on this delicious looking meal and we haven't even heard from the lady of the hour!" The identically colored mare sitting beside him nudged him in the side to say, 'Shifty your being an oaf.'

Unfortunately her son didn't pick up on that subtlety. "Yes Mrs. Rich, is a speech out of the question?" The others in the room joined in the pleading for speechifying, Filthy was about to speak for her and deny it but Screwball assured him it was fine.

"Thank you everypony, I'm not used to having ponies looking at me as the center of attention so I'll try sum up my feelings the best I can for you all. As I look around I see that I am surrounded by faces both familiar and un, friends from long ago and ponies I hope to get to know soon. I wan't everyone to know that it makes me feel so happy that there are so many who care about me, especially my husband, daughter and son I'm just meeting for the first time. Well, that's about all, dig in I suppose?"

There was some weak clapping and an awkward cough, thankfully Bruce was there to intervene. "Well M-mo- Screwball. Why don't we start rectifying that problem of not knowing the ponies her right away. You of course recognize Photo finish and her husband, but you might not recognize their daughter, who just so happens to be the lovely mare sitting beside me."

"Photo, you had a daughter?! I never would have taken you for a family mare."

"Oh ja, I know darling, I know. But having the baby, what can I say but it was 'the magics.' By the way it is so good to be abble to talk with you when you are not a complete psychopath, keep doing that." Hoity nodded in agreement, he looked pleased though you could hardly tell from behind his big blue designer shades.

"Oh, um, thanks Photo, I'll try." Much as she would like to think otherwise her old friend had always been that blunt. "Well I know I recognize you Oats, though the mustache is new."

"Well if you call twenty years new for facial hair, I suppose." He was trying to play it off as a joke but Filthy clearly didn't find it amusing, instead he only stared at Oats with an icy intensity rivaled only by the icebergs. "*Ahem* Yes it's new. This is my wife Barley Bran and my daughter Wheat Chaff."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Screwball, you have such a lovely home."

"Actually this is the children's home now. I'll be living with Filthy in his apartment in the city."

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, uhh - say something Chaff!"

Wheat Chaff looked to her mother in the level of disinterest only a teenager could manifest, "Ugh, fine. I like your necklace Mrs. Rich, where did you get it?" That wasn't exactly what Barley wanted but it served to change the topic.

"This? I honestly don't know, when I woke up in the hospital the nurses said it was one of my possessions. But I've never seen it before in my life."

This peaked Oats' curiosity, "Do you mind if I have a look at it?" Screwball replied with a 'by all means,' and hoofed it over. "Hmm, the resemblance is strong..."

"What is commissioner?" Bruce asked.

"It looks somewhat similar to an artifact stolen from the Pre-dawn Museum yesterday. No need to worry though, we know for a fact you never came close to the museum before getting admitted to 'Our lady of kindness.' No it's only similar in shape, the piece that was stolen was aged and lacking any of the little carvings on this." Gratefully he gave it back without further thought.

"Thank you comm- Wait, Oats you became a police pony?"

"That's how we met, Oatmeal and I." Barley said with a smile, "I was a refugee from Trotingham when everything I had left was stolen from the camp. Even though it was total chaos he still took the time to track down my stolen belongings and returned them to me. It didn't take too long after that to realize he was the one."

"Aw that's so sweet!" said Silver.

Screwball agreed with the sentiment but a thought occurred to her. "I suppose there's no better pony to ask but, am I going to go to jail? I know i did some nasty things while I- while I wasn't myself. I need to know am I going to go to jail for them?" At that moment all the sound seemed to leave the room, what had been an upbeat discussion suddenly turned sour.

Oats carefully chewed the cud before answering, "Well... You are going to have to come in and make a statement, and it's very likely you'll be brought up on charges. Everything after that is up to the prosecutor's office, but you should really be talking to Mr. Dimple about that."

"Mr Dimple?"

"Sorry I should have introduced him sooner Screwball."

The young pegasi brushed it off, "No biggie Bruce, I prefer to introduce myself anyways. The name is Dimple, Hardnose Dimple, attorney at law for the great city of Ponyville. And these are my folks, my dad Shifty Eyes and my mom Crimson Rain."

"Dimple's been my best friend for years, I have no hesitation saying he's a wizard in the courtroom. So what do you think her chances are Hardy?"

"Personally Mrs. Rich I think you have nothing to worry about. You've had a long, well documented history of mental illness as well as a clean bill of health from Fluttershy. To be honest it's likely your case won't be very high on our list of priorities. Right now the courts are over filled with thefts, drug cases and gang bangers that you might just get a summery hearing. Not trying to sound rude but, the DA's office has bigger fish to fry than one crazy mare who hijacked a balloon." Dimple chugged down the remainder of his coffee and went for more, "My advice would be to hire a good lawyer."

"The company already has several of the best retained." Filthy said with pride.

"Then that's even less to worry about. Take heart Mrs. Rich, once it's all over you'll be free to live your life however you like- On the right side of the law that is."

"You don't know what a relief it is to hear that. Tell me, will you be the the one handling my case Mr. Dimple?"

"Oh no no no, that's completely out of the question. In the interests of fairness I'm excluded from this trial, even if I'm only tangentially related to parties involved there still is the possibility I'd be swayed to 'go easy on you.' But again, don't worry, whoever is assigned will handle things fairly and honestly."

Before anything else could be said on the matter Randolph emerged from the kitchen with a large cake on a rolling cart. Intricate cursive in frosting said, 'Welcome home Screwball' Over cake and tea the conversation transformed into something more casual, the marefolk gushed over new designs by Rarity while the stallions made conversation of hoofball and with some gentle nudging onto the mysterious new vigilante of Ponyville.

"While I have your ear commissioner, do these rumors of a crime fighting bat pony have any merit?" Bruce asked, wording his question very carefully. "Word is you've met him face to face."

"The Batmane? Yes it is true, though he's no bat pony. Just an earth pony trouncing about in a suit, if you ask me he might be more than a little screwy in the head-" That upset Bruce but he was sure not to show it. "-But whoever he is, he seems to have Ponyville's interests at heart."

"So would you consider him an ally then?"

"Tartarus no! His methods are far to over the top." Oats leaned in for a whisper, "*Don't let your father know, but the Batmane was the one who rescued Screwball."

"Well then we should be thanking him!"

"In the process of doing so he used dangerous explosives around hostages and sent a weather control panel falling from Cloudsdale, the darn thing landed in the middle of a busy highway, nearly caused a pileup. Good intentions don't mean much if you're hurting the ponies you're trying to help."

That little revelation rocked his perceptions, was this really how everypony thought of his alter ego? Before he could respond, Oats' daughter wandered off from the other mares. "Papa's just jealous because Batman can actually get something done in this city."

"Oh really?"

"Uh huh! The Batman is soooooooooo awesome! He's got a jet car and grappling hooks and a jet plane and a cape!"

"My daughter's taken a fancy to him ever since I first told her about the way he handled a bust on a mafia held warehouse." There was a certain exasperation in the commissioner's voice, no doubt he was ill prepared for raising a teenage filly. "Why don't you tell Mr. Wayne about the fan club you're starting Chaff."

"Oh yeah! I've been trying to get everypony at my school to join the Batman fan club, I'm it's founding member I'll have you know." The lithe filly seemed pleased as punch over that fact. "SO far nopony has joined, mostly because the only news media covering Batman is the Equestrian Inquirer and nopony takes that trash seriously. I'm sure once reputable papers catch onto how awesome Batman is everypony will want to join the club."

Chaff had a certain enthusiasm that reminded him of his foalhood friend Scootaloo and her obsession with her idol Rainbow Dash, "Sounds like you know quite allot about this Batmane fellow-"

"Bat-MAN!" Chaff rudely corrected Bruce.

He had to admit it was kind of fun being on the other side of the name teasing, even if it was his own. "-Batman, so Chaff. Who do you think he is under that mask?"

"Well he's gotta be really macho, and super strong too! A-and he's gotta have chronic laryngitis or somthing cause papa says he always talks in a really deep voice. And most of all he must be single."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"Cause I'm going to be his fillyfriend dummy!"

Oats nearly spilt the coffee he was drinking all over the Saddle-Arabian rug. "Like Tartarus you are! You and I are having a talk when we get home filly!"

"Ha ha, well I'll keep my eyes open for anypony matching that description." Sometimes he wondered how different it would be if he could do this job without the mask, would it really change anything at all?

As the night winded on more fun was had, Diamond and Silver got an old favorite dance record and tore up the floor. Meanwhile Dimple was practicing telling inspirational anecdotes about his upbringing that he was going to use on the campaign trail, damming facts out his heritage withheld for obvious reasons. And for what seemed to be the first in a very long time, Bruce and his father were having a pleasant non business related conversation, just father and son.

But like all good things it too came to an end, the elder butler had come to steal away Filthy. "Excuse me Master Rich, but you have a phone call waiting for you in the study upstairs."

"Any idea who it is?" he asked as he followed Randolph.

"The gentlecolt did not give a name, he only said that he had business to take care of. He seemed rather perturbed sir."

"Right, I'd better take it then. Could you send my apologies to everypony downstairs for me?"

"Of course sir." Randolph bowed out and closed the door behind him, well aware of the need for privacy in business.

"H-hello?" Filthy asked into the phone.

The voice that answered him on the other end was one he dreaded above all others, one he had first heard upon his incarceration all those years back. "You are late with the payments Filthy, this is the second time this month." The heavy draft's voice was deep and booming, intimidating even over the phone lines.

"I-I-I know Don, I apologize but-"

"But nothing Filthy. When you owe a debt you repay it. If you don't repay it then there are consequences, you out of anypony should know that."

"I know, I don't need reminding. But these money transfers take time and all my times been occupied by my wife finally getting better. You remember I told you about Screwball while we shared a cell." Filthy's voice quivered, his knees knocked and he hoped to Celestia nopony was listening in.

There was a pause on the other end, he could here him drawing on a big ol' stogie, the same kind he'd him hooked on. "Yes, I remember. And we'd be nothing if we're not a family. So you have my congratulations Filthy. Celebrate, reminisce, rock her world, enjoy the night. Tomorrow night I want the money, and your going to hoof deliver it to us."

"Tomorrow is too soon! If I go to fast then my son will notice and-"

"Filthy, look out the window please." The voice was firm and authoritative and Filthy obeyed. "Do you see the house across the road?"

As Filthy was searching in the black night a light flickered on in the attic of a home about five hundred feet from the manor. Now illuminated by the bulb was a familiar pony wielding what looked to be a high powered riffle. "Wave to Mr. Cavallo Filthy." Shakily he did so. "You can rest easy Filthy, Gusippi will only be watching you at the party tonight, we wouldn't want you to have a change of heart and confessing to that pig downstairs would we. Get me my money tomorrow and he won't do anything nasty to you or your son and daughter."

There was no mistaking the intention behind those words, this was a final warning. "Y-yes Don Melody." The light in the nearby house turned off, no doubt the assassin would be gone without a trace long before Filthy could get somepony over there. This was the hell he lived in, owing life and limb to the most notorious crime family in the city, without any way out.

As he sat there with the phone in his lap the dial tone rang on and on, he had completely lost track of time, so much so that he forgot about the dozen ponies waiting downstairs. After a few minutes a soft hoof rapped on the door, "Daddy? Is everything alright?"

"Y-yes princess, everything is fine." He hated himself for saying that. "Just had a call from my business partner, he didn't know we were having a party."

"Oh daddy, you work too hard. Why not tell him to stuff it next time he interrupts us?" He had a mini heart attack at the mention of disrespecting the Don. "Anyway, everypony is getting ready to leave downstairs, could I get you to say goodnight and thank them all for coming?"

"Yes, of course. I'll be down in a minute." Filthy waited till he was sure Diamond had gone back downstairs. "This can't go on, I can't let these thugs use you as a bargaining chip. One way or another princess I'm going to save us." With new found resolve Filthy wiped the sweat from his brow, already an idea was gestating in his mind, one chance at life for those he loved. And by Celestia he would take it, no matter the cost.

Author's Note

Barley Bran, no relation to Brownie Bun The horse wife

I've been trying to subtly set up Filthy's situation here for some time, I wonder if anyone could tell?

By the Firefly's light: part one

Hooflyn, borne out of necessity and garnering a bad reputation. Hooflyn was where most refugees settled, over the decade transforming the jumbled shantytown constructed of tarpolion and scrap metal into a tightly packed urban landscape of brick and mortar. Hooflyn was burning.

Not the burning rage of social unrest caused by shoving the majority of minorities into one underfunded portion of the city. This burning was quite literal and deadly. A ten story apartment complex full of the poorest of the poor was being roasted from below, this suburb was often called the melting pot but that was hardly what they meant.

Already on the scene were the professionals, blue uniformed police ponies holding back the terrified crowd of onlookers, white clad EMT's fixing oxygen masks to victims who'd already been rescued. And the bravest of them all, the one in ten ponies who look a raging blaze and rather than run, they dove strait in. A diverse mix of pony folk made up the fire department, unicorns were using magic to maintain the structural integrity of the building while the earthponies made their carefully planned charge through all the while the pegasi were carrying down any ponies lucky enough to make it to the roof or an open window.

Down on the street level the fire chief, a mare relatively young for the position was overseeing the fire trucks, going back and forth helping those under her command with the hoses and by duty having to spare what few precious minuets she had to update the press. From experience she knew the building was lost, the hottest fires were moving towards the basement and the gas main. Even with that section cut off from the larger system there still was enough trapped inside those pipes to level the structure.

All that could be done was to try and slow it's progress enough to allow the escape of all those trapped inside. "Okay ponies let's make sure our crew has a clear exit point! And douse those flames before they spread to the higher floors, we still have civilians yet to be evacuated!" Her tone was firm and authoritative though you could hardly tell over the deafening roar of the blaze. Just then a short series of small explosions rocked the building. "Damage report!?"

A shrill unicorn barked out, "Not sure what happened but we cant hold the fifth floor much longer! Everypony needs to get higher up or get out now."

Quickly the fire chief ran to the radio tent that had been set up, calling in to those inside. "The fifth floor is done for, everyone continue the search on the sixth floor!"

On the inside of the burning monstrosity the fire fighters were working diligently, sweeping through the dozen or so apartments on that floor when the call came in. "Copy that chief! Alright everypony you heard the lady, we need to get off the floor ASAP! Don't wait to rendezvous at the stairs, just keep moving." One by one all his comrades responded, all except one. "Sunny Shine respond, didn't you hear we need to evacuate this floor?"

"I heard sir, but there's still a kid trapped up here!" rang Sunny's voice, muffled by the re breather on his muzzle.

"What's your location Sunny? I'll come assist you."

"West side of the building, apartment nine! (Just stay calm kiddo, were going to get you out of here pronto.)" He'd neglected to turn off the call button while assuring the child, over the system you could hear his tiny little voice shrieking.

The leader of the squad after seeing his other team members up the stairs began running full boar through the halls, dodging flame and cider at each turn. "Affirmative Sunny, I'll have the unicorn team keep your section of the building sound. Do what you can to get that foal secured, I'll-" *KA-THRASH* "Oh no, Sunny are you alright in there?!"

"We're fine, but what happened?"

"The damned hallway just fell through, you're going to have to hold tight in that room and wait for the ladder truck. It's still to hot for the pegasi to get close."

"Well tell em' to get on it, we're roasting in this room!" Sunny Shine wasn't exaggerating, the air inside the foal's bedroom was stiffing like an oven and small streams of smoke were pouring through the cracks in the floor. The little mule colt was simply terrified, his entire world was going up in flames and he'd somehow been left behind to watch it all burn. The firefighter had him pulled close so he could be protected under the flame retardant coat.

"Mister, when are we gonna get out of here, It's getting hard to breath."

"It'll be soon kiddo, just hold on a little longer-" *KA-THRASH* A second series of small explosions went off, this time much closer. The already weakened joists began to buckle and crumble beneath their hooves, suddenly half the floor caved in revealing the flaming maw of the inferno bellow. "Holy shi- Where's that Celestia damned ladder truck!?!" Sunny demanded over the radio as one by one the old oak planks making up the floor were crumbling and falling through.

"Were going as fast as possible but there's allot of debris in our path. Just hang on for five more-"

"In five more minutes we'll be charred to a crisp!" The little colt shrieked in terror, "Sorry kiddo, didn't mean to scare you." More and more of the floor gave way, continuously backing the two into the corner until they had less than five feet to themselves. Sunny was preparing himself for the great hereafter all the while shielding the colt's eyes so as he wouldn't have to see it coming, then something strange happened.

The something crashed through the ceiling above them and fell strait down into the fires, though he could only see it for a moment Sunny could have sworn it was some kind of animal. After only a moment the animal shaped something, rather than incinerate began assaulting the fires and putting them out with some kind of spray foam, after a minute nearly all the fires had been quelled and the shape could be seen for it's true form. "Hello up there! Are you ponies in need of assistance?"

Sunny was dumbstruck and also nearing the edge of a one story drop into burnt out remains of a home. "Yes sir! But who are you?"

"I'm a soul in search of justice, a dark knight seeking to protect all of Ponyville's citizens. You can call me, Batman!" The fireman was about to open his mouth to speak but Bruce stopped him. "I know, I know. 'What's a man?' 'You look more like a Batmane.' I've heard it all before."

"Actually, I was going to say that was awesome! Really kick flank!" Sunny gave a emphatic punch at the air to add to his statement but more of his already precarious perch fell through. "Uhh, mind helping us down?"

Wordlessly Bruce procured the grapple from his pouch and Pulled himself up to their level. Without missing a beat he grabbed hold of them both and pulled them even higher through the sixth floor hole he created on his way down. "Do you think you can get to the top floor extraction point from here?"

"Yes but shouldn't you be coming with us? There's nothing left down there, everypony's already been evacuated."

"Sorry but my jobs just getting started. Oh and Sunny-" his adressee's ears perked up, how did he know his name? "- I'll need to speak with your chief once the fire's are out." With that Bruce detached the claw and dove once more into the wrecked building, confounding his audience.

"-come in! Sunny respond! What's happening in there?! Sunny come in!" Crackled the radio.

"This is Sunny, all's fine. Eighty-six the ladder truck, we'll be on the roof for extraction in five minutes."

The chief on the other end was sounding quite confused, "On the roof? Sunny what just happened? You said you were trapped."

"I know your going to say I'm crazy but, I think I was just saved by the Batman I read about in the Equastrian Enquirer."

There was a notable pause on the part of the fire chief, then she responded, "You're damned right you're crazy! Stop wasting our time and get you're lazy flank on that roof pronto!" Sunny had no cause to disagree with that order.

*****

On the ground far from the inferno ponies were still running around like headless chickens, but the brunt of the work was over. Everypony was accounted for, both civilian and firefighter, even the little mule colt was reunited with his inter-racial family. His damage was not too severe, minor smoke inhalation and the trauma of watching all his toys turned to ash but otherwise unharmed.

In the tent the fire chief was busy congratulating her brave underlings on a successful rescue operation, "You did good ponies, real good. It's a shame these folks are loosing everything they own but you got them all out with their most valuable possession, their lives." A round of applause erupted though it was muffled by the fire proof boots on their hooves. "Heck even Sunny Shine got in a save, but what the hay was with that BS story you were telling? You had us all worried."

"It wasn't bull ma'am, we really were saved by Batman! Just ask the kid."

"Oh yeah the kid, you could probably ask him if small furry creatures that live on the moon saved him and he'd say yes, he's so out of it." Instinctively she looked over her shoulder at the family, hoping none of them heard that last remark. "Look Sunny I don't care what you were trying to pull but we're all just glad you made it out safe-"

"Ms. Brimstone! There's another pony emerging from the building!" said one of the ponies operating the radio. And sure enough he walking out the front door, unfazed by the flames or the jets of water being sprayed in his direction. A big black-

"Batman." All the fire fighters looked dumbfounded at the sight, a fully grown pony dressed in a costume like you'd find in an issue of 'Power Ponies' walking, not running out of a burning building. "Alright I take it back, you're not crazy Sunny." All watched as the pony walked his way to the tent and collapsed in a heap.

"Mrmph mrr mrumph hrrrm." He hummed when it became apparent that none of his words were escaping the respirator he removed it and repeated himself. "Sorry, that should be the last of them."

"The last of what?" Sunny asked.

"Last of the bombs, the whole building was riddled with them. Finally finished freezing the last of them." Out from under the cape he produced a sample of said bombs. They were little unassuming things, a cluster of wires jumbling into a lump of clay like substance, this was C4. "You should have the bomb techs examine this to find any clues to the builder's identity, every bomb is unique."

"Thank you but, how on Celestia's green earth did you do any of that?"

"You mean the fire diving? My suit and cape are made of the same stuff your gear is made of and my resolve is made of steel." These were the special modifications Bruce had spent so much time on, making his new suit resistant to anything but a blast furnace. "A friend of mine brought it to my attention I can be a bit over exuberant when it comes to force. I thought I should at least try to save what little I could for your arson investigators. And the way these were spread throughout the building at key points, my guess is our firebug wasn't just trying to bring it down, but bring it down on top of you all."

A somber look covered their faces, most of them were volunteers. Why would anypony target them for their lifesaving work? As he spoke a small light began flashing on the C4 he'd given over followed by a chirping noise, someone was trying to detonate them. "Everypony down!" Ms. Brimstone shouted as she threw herself over the bombs. She awaited the brief instant of pain but it never came, only the sensation of the icy cold bomb underneath her body.

"What the-"

Bruce was the first to help her up, "Sorry, I thought I said already. I froze the bombs with liquid nitrogen, the whole mechanism should be inoperable now. But just in case-" He took back the bomb and ripped out the cluster of wires, "Well that's interesting."

"What is, the pants crapping you just gave us?!" Sunny asked.

"No, but sorry. I mean this detonator, it has a timer and a nominal remote feature. It's so weak that whoever tried this would have to have clear line of sight to set it off." Batman looked around at the fearful crowd standing around, then to the skyline. He could swear he saw some flash of red like a fire move about on a rooftop then disappear. "Don't worry everypony, I'm going to track down whoever did this before they strike again."

Rather than wait any longer Bruce pulled out his grapple and swung off into the night, pulling himself towards the direction of the something that he suspected of this crime. The hunt had begun.

*****

From atop a building far away yet still with a top floor view of the fire a pony watched the show unfold. It was a show of his own design, a conflagration of beautiful dancing lights set to the key of burning ponies. Yet not all was going according to his demented plan, one by one each of the ponies who entered his trap emerged, not a soul lost. What's more the wretched building itself didn't fall as planned, that was upsetting on a personal and professional level.

Had it been something he'd done? Had he miscalculated the amount of explosives necessary to send it crashing down? There was always that possibility yet he was sure, he'd done his paid obligation dutifully without error. Using the binocular googles on his suit he zoomed in on those now outside and 'safe.' They were all he'd expected them to be, hulking brutes too stupid to know when something's on fire you run away. "Run away and cower like the dogs they are!" He screamed to the night.

No, none of them would have had the know-how to disarm his handiwork, there must be something or someone here who doesn't belong. And that someone was a costumed freak waltzing around like he owned the place, a falsehood since soon it would be his employers who owned the ruins of Hooflyn. To top of this injustice he could see in the fool's hooves were his own bombs, sitting there unexploded.

"That's just not right, too bad they don't know about my remote detonator." With gusto he slammed the button backup and eagerly watched to see them all become the pink mist. He waited and waited but nothing happened, further zooming revealed the freak pulling apart his beautiful creation. "So it was you, oh I'm going to enjoy burning you to cinder's bat boy!" As if to taunt his new target he let out a stream of napalm from his flamethrower, lighting up the night sky.

This freak had interfered with both business and pleasure and he was going to kill him for it. But a plan had to be made, a trap to be laid and that would have to wait for the morning. Angrily he engaged the thrusters on his pack and flew off for his hideout, his mind roiling with images of what he was going to do once he won.

Author's Note

I'm not sure if freezing C4 actually works, I'm mostly basing it off of the segment in Metal Gear Solid 2 on the big shell.

Hope everyone enjoyed part one I'll tr to get the other two parts out ASAP.

By the Firefly's light: part two

The fires were cold and so was the trail, Bruce had tailed the arsonist to the best of his ability as long as he could but it was to no avail. He only had so many grapple hooks at his disposal while his target had a jet pack with a full tank. In the end he'd rounded a corner disappearing into the black night leaving only the smell of combusted jet-fuel in his wake.

But the chase wasn't a complete wash, in the brief glimpses he got Bruce could make out certain features of his gear. He was wielding a flamethrower, home made by the looks of it, and it was connected by a short hose to a second tank on his back. He looked to be clad in a skin tight black material, sleek and no doubt fire proof. There was one striking thing he saw was at the neckline, a small gap between suit and helmet showed exposed flesh, not fur.

The most distinctive feature or lack thereof was the mask he was wearing, as stated it was plain black with no mouth or pronounced muzzle. It had dull red lenses for the eyes made of compound hexagon shapes, like an insect's, as well as two small antennae for unknown purpose.

While the insight into the weaponry and armor of his opponent was nice it shed no light onto either his identity or his whereabouts. For now pursuit would have to wait, he would instead try a different approach. While there was always the possibility that the criminal was motivated solely by his inner demons it was equally possible something more terrestrial was to blame. So Bruce stood there in front of the shelter that had been set up oh so close to the burnt husk of the apartment, fully costumed, preparing his mind for the arduous task of interviewing survivors for any clues.

'Alright Bruce, remember these ponies are likely still in shock so be respectful and try not to unnecessarily scare them. They're the victims not the cowardly lot of criminals.' He steadied his nerve and rapped his hoof firmly on the first door. After a few moments a mare came to the door, before he could even get a word out she slammed in in his face.

"Help, please help! There's a prowler at the door! I think it's the pony the neighborhood watch signs were saying to look out for!"

"Ma'am I'm not a prowler, I'm here investigating the arson attacks. If you would just answer a few of my questions-"

"You're out of your apple buckin mind if you thing I'm stupid enough to open the door to a strange weirdo like you." Bruce felt tempted to reply with, 'Well you already did once,' but decided to be tactful instead.

"Sorry I disturbed you, have a nice day." As he walked on he could sense her presence up against the door and her eye peering through the peephole. "Well one down, only a couple hundred to go." Sad to say the next few homes fared just as poorly, it seems the first mare had already phoned ahead to warn her neighbors of the 'prowler.' As he rounded the corner Bruce bumped into a familiar face, Sunny Shine, the fire fighter he's rescued the night before.

"Oh hey, It's you! I never got to properly thank you last night Batman, you really saved my flank and if those bombs you diffused went off well..." Sunny now outside of his heavy tan coat was dressed only in a simple cotton shirt with the Ponyville fire district's logo on it. He was a well built stallion, bulging veins and musculature could be seen even thorough his bright yellow fur. "-Thanks, again. So what brings you here? There's not more bombs hidden in this building too?!"

"None that I've seen, the arsonist used the same hiding spots over and over in last night's attempt. I haven't found any in my preliminary searches."

"Then why-"

"*Sigh* I lost him in a chase last night, I have no real way to track him yet. So I'm trying to find him by way of motive, if I could just get anypony to answer a few questions then I might finally make some headway on this case." Bruce was genuinely miffed, he would have no trouble getting information just as himself, the head of Rich enterprises was known as quite the charmer.

"If you're having trouble getting ponies to open the doors and talk you can tag along with me. I'm busy distributing relief supplies, seeing if any elderly or infirm ponies need assistance, that sort of thing. I guarantee you they'll listen if free stuff is involved."

"Thank you Sunny that's very nice of you-"

"Sure sure no problem, if you could just help carry these cases of bottled water and medical supplies then we can get started right away." He motioned to a child's red wagon filled to the brim with all the essentials, the poor little thing's axles were about to give out underneath itself.

Bruce knelt down and picked up two cases and somehow found a way to balance them both on his back. "If it means finding our arsonist then I'm game for playing pack mule."

Sunny gave him a big ol' slap on the back, "That's the spirit!" Unfortunately that spirit sent the water tumbling onto the floor. "Oh, sorry."

True to his prediction with his help ponies were willing to talk to the big scary ponified bat, though getting anything useful out of them was another story. "It's that little punk in apartment Seven-B I tell ya! I see him playing with matches all the time!" "Fire what fire? Everything's fine, I'm just staying here in this awful shack because I feel like it." "Why did this happen to me? Why me? Why me?Whyme?-" They were all wrecks, either in complete denial of the situation or experiencing a mental breakdown.

"Is it always this bad after a fire Sunny?" Bruce asked, by now half his load had been given away to those in need.

"Not always, but some ponies take it worse than others. There's always the agoraphobics, terrified to leave the safety of their homes. It can be very traumatic, Celestia knows it was for me."

"You were in a fire?"

"Yeah, we lost our home, our farm even the pets. Though I'm hardly special, seems like everypony lost something to Tirek, I just count myself lucky I didn't lose my life too. That's why I volunteer for these follow up checks on these ponies, cause I know what their going through."

Bruce let his mind wander back to those awful months when that demon walked free on Equestia's soil. It seemed every other day a report would come in that yet another town had fallen, it's residents either dead or drained of magic. Then it came about that Canterlot fell, the shining capital could not hold it's own, all seemed lost. He cried for an entire day straight for Princess Luna, only stopping once she contacted him in a dream to let him know she was still alive. Then there was the day he finally stepped hoof in Ponyville---

Rather than let himself get pulled in fully by the memories he got back onto the task at hoof. "Who's up next?"

"Hmm, oh, actually it's some ponies we know. You remember that little colt you helped save last night?"

"Sure, poor little guy was clinging on so tight we practically needed a crowbar to get him off you."

"That's the one, I'm sure his folks would be willing to talk to the pony who saved their son's life." Sunny led the way to the door, and knocked, a weary sleep deprived donkey was the one to answer. "Hi Mr. Buro. I'm with the Ponyville fire department, do you mind if we talk for a bit?"

Grogily he shrugged yes, though all the sleep washed from his eyes when he caught sight of the bat standing behind the fireman. "*ULP* What do you people want? We didn't leave like you warned us too and so you burned our homes to the ground. So what now, are you thugs here to finish the job?!"

"Sir? I'm with the fire department, doing checkups on all the victims of last night's fire."

"A likely story. And how do you explain the gorilla you got with you huh?"

"He's the pony who saved both me and you're son from the fifth floor last night."

"The- You're the- Oh Celestia I'm so sorry. I just- I'm-" The poor man was floundering for words to express what he was feeling, but nothing coherent could come out. "You'd better come inside, just try to keep it down, my son's just now gotten to sleep." Sounds of locks unlatching could be heard and the door swung inwardly.

The temporary housing was modest to say the least, with donated furnishings from handmedown stores. There was only one bed for the lot of them and no door to close off the bedroom. "How's he holding up?"

"He's a tough one, but I think he's still scared, I can't blame him though. There's not much of a future left for my son in Ponyville, we may end up sending him to live with his grandmother in Mexicolt. At least there you don't have armed ponies trying to stronghoof you out of your homes."

Bruce had taken a seat on milk crate, one of the only 'chairs' in the room. "You mentioned that before, that ponies were threatening you and you're family. Do you know who it was?"

"No, and it's not just my family, everypony who was in our complex received threats. First though it started with offers, 'We'll buy off your lease if you leave.' 'We'll make it worth you're while."

"So why did you stay?"

"Are you kidding? Leaving Hooflyn is impossible on our wages, I'd rather live in modesty here than on the streets of uptown." Bruce felt a twinge of what he would describe as 'white man's guilt', not quite apt since he was now a dull shade of blue and no longer a human. But the sentiment was the same, an impossibly rich pony in the midst of the impoverished. "Besides I wasn't born yesterday. If an offer seems too good to be true then it's a fair bet it is."

"You looked into these ponies I presume?"

"Each of the real estate companies making the offers were shells, empty offices with a logo on the window. So when us and a few other residents refused to leave then the honey sweetened offers turned to the vinegar of threats."

"Nice metaphor." Sunny added.

"Thanks, first it was subtle stuff. Anonymous letters and phone calls, then they ramped it up. Ponies getting dragged off the streets and beaten, armed stallions walking our kids home from school, fake repair ponies destroying the plumbing."

"How could any of this be happening, I've never heard anything about this from my cop buddies."

"Oh yeah the police, no matter how many times anypony tries reporting this nothing ever happens. All we get are stock responses and canned callbacks telling us to stop wasting taxpayer money." The frustration and desperation was all to real on his face, which made the reality described all the more miserable. "But I suppose none of that really matters anymore. They got what they wanted, nopony's ever going to live in that building again."

There was an awkward silence taking hold over the room, he'd already resigned himself to failure and now had to live with the results, to sift from the ashes. There was little else to learn from him so instead they left the family with supplies and a word from the Batman, "This injustice will not go unnoticed or unpunished."

*****

"Do you think he was telling the truth?" Sunny asked, "Seems pretty far'fetched that not a single word of that could go under the radar."

Bruce was stoic and standing tall now that his burden of relief supplies was gone, "It's plausible. It's been rumored for some time that there are police ponies on the payroll of the mobs. It's not too much of a leap to assume morally corrupt ponies would accept bits to look the other way or bury complaints in bureaucracy."

"But why go to all the trouble over a slum in Hooflyn? Why go so far as to kill everypony inside with a fire?"

"I believe the answer will lie somewhere in the same bureaucracy they try to obscure the facts with." Sunny looked at him with puzzlement, "Even if the fake real estate agencies are just hollow shells, they still exist on paper and paper leaves a damming trail."

"Huh, that sounds kind of anti-climactic, busting crooks with their shoddy accounting work."

"Don't forget the arsonist is still at large, he needs to be caught before he can cause more destruction like last night's."

"Damn straight, say can I be there when you're beating the tar out of that sorry S.O.B?"

"Justice isn't a spectator's sport. Besides, I work alone."

"Hmm, that's a shame. Would sure beat what's on pay-per-view." Sunny shrugged it off, "I just have one more stop, Mr. Lynns. He's a victim from the first fire here in Hooflyn, poor bastard's burned across his whole body, doctors say it's so bad his feathers will never grow back. Me and some other's in the building stop by to take care of him."

"I really don't-"

"It'll only take but a moment, plus he loves meeting new ponies." Reluctantly Bruce agreed, Sunny had helped him get some vital information, a fey moments more couldn't hurt.

The interior of Mr. Lynns' apartment was barren, even more so than the Buro's. One one end was a dresser with a lonely ash tray filled with remains of cigarettes, on the other was a hospital bed and Lynns himself. He was a pathetic looking creature, fur and feathers burned to a crisp leaving only hardened pink leather in it's place. He was in a full body cast and in traction as well, only his eyes were fully exposed the rest of his face left bandaged in a featureless mask of cotton.

"W-who's there?" the crippled pony asked.

"It's just me Garfield, How'ya doing today?"

"Sunny, my good- friend. I'm doing poorly. The tenants upstairs make so much noise when they move, you think there's a her of cattle up there."

"There is a herd of cattle, and sheep and goats and alpaca and zebra's and-" Sunny kept listing off every conceivable quadruped that could be inhabiting the building for some time. Bruce would have found it amusing but something in the room was unsettling to him, an odor. As he searched around for it's source his hoof landed on a particularly squeaky floorboard."

"What was that? Is there somepony else here?!" With his neck bound in place he couldn't see the four foot superhero pony in his living room.

"Oh it's just-" Sunny stopped when he saw Batman placing a hoof to his lips, a cold serious look in his eyes. "-It's just Mooriella's calf's running down the hall again. I'll be sure to tell them to keep it down for you." Bruce carefully left the room without making another sound while he let Sunny finish helping him.

After a few minutes he emerged to find Batman fiddling about with some electronic do-dad he didn't recognize. "Mind telling me why it was necessary for me to lie to a poor disabled pony?"

"Sunny, what do you know about this Mr. Lynns?"

"Garfield? Well he doesn't talk much, and from what his medical charts say he won't be doing any moving anytime soon either. "

"Does he smoke?"

"Huh? Well yeah, he always has me light up a cigarette and place it in his mouth for him. Poor guy."

"If he's an invalid, then why was there a smoldering cigarette in the ash tray on the far end of the room? And did you smell it? The odd petroleum smell."

"No way Batman, that's BS. He's in a full body cast, the doctors said he cant be moved or-"

"The doctors or his medical charts?"

"What?"

"Did you speak with any real doctors? Because there's no way in hell a real doctor would leave a pony who's sustained third degree burns over his entire body to be released from hospital with no supervision or home care. I present that this Lynns if that's his real name is not a victim but the arsonist himself. I present that he's been hiding in plain sight with a central base right among his targets."

Sunny was dumbfounded, more so by the prospect that he'd been aiding and abetting the criminal the whole time. "So what do we do now? Call the cops?"

"Two problems with that. One, if what Mr. Buro said is true then it would get buried like the rest. I could talk directly with commissioner Oats but I fear the arsonist would strike before then."

"And the other thing?"

"I cant prove it-" Bruce took the piece of equipment he was fiddling with and placed it above the sill of the door. "-Yet. These sensors will alert me when he leaves the room."

"And then what? You'll fight him in the building full of his victims?!"

"No, I have a plan to draw him out and deal with him in an isolated location. Do you know any places like that around here?"

"There's a metal foundry, been abandoned for years."

"I'll be there and let everypony know that. Make sure he knows I'm the one who diffused his bombs last night too, you'll lure him there and I'll incapacitate him." Bruce made his was to the nearest window and before leaping out he had one more thing to say. "Sunny, you said you wanted to be there?"

"Yeah."

"Bring a fire truck with you." And with that he disappeared into the fresh night, off to prepare the arena for their deadly game.

Author's Note

This chapters for anyone who's had to go door to door in their lives, be it for selling overpriced candy bars for school, taking part in ministerial work or public service campaigns. Everyone who has done it knows it's difficult work.

Sorry for this taking longer than expected, I've been crazy busy with work plus having to search for a new car. Thankfully that's done now and hopefully this and the next ark will be done in February.

By the Firefly's light: part three

Bruce was hard at work preparing the arena, an old steel foundry overgrown with vegetation. Little factories like this one had sprung up all around the city, worked at max capacity for years then died off once the high rises and homes had been built. Thankfully the only squatters Bruce had to evict was an angry family of raccoons hiding in the long dormant blast furnace, he would have hated to tell some poor homeless pony that their camp was likely going to go up in flames so get the heck out.

The plan was simple, lure the arsonist inside, subdue him and hand him over to the authorities. He'd already returned home briefly to restock his supply of flame retardant foam as well as a thermos full of piping hot coffee made by Silver. His opponent was aligned with fire so his plan was simple, draw him into a trap of the foam he'd set up inside one of the massive cauldrons used to carry the molten ore and once he was doused disarm him.

It was simple but he knew plans like that always had room to fall apart, which is why he requested Sunny bring the fire truck. The only problem was he was sans Sunny and sans fire truck at the moment. A tricky predicament but one he would have to deal with, if nothing else Bruce was great at improvising. As he was rigging the mechanism that would dump the foam a small device on his belt began chirping, somepony was approaching. Quickly he finished the wiring and took to the rafters to hide among the shadows.

He could hear the distinctive whine of the jetpack, and the thud of hooves hitting the ground running. Slowly the great metal door swung outward letting in glorious sun rays into the factory husk. At almost a light jog the pony responsible went inside, his hooves clip-clopping off the stone floors. It was him, Bruce was sure of it, he had the same height and build and the scent of jet fuel was for sure the same one.

"Mr. Lynns, I've been expecting you." Bruce said from his hiding place, his voice boomed and echoed off the decrepped walls.

"Sorry don't know anypony by that name, in actuality there is no such pony. But if you want you can call me the Firefly." He pulled out the flame thrower on his back and let loose a stream of napalm, burning a swath of vegetation overtaking the wall.

"I'm guessing you didn't get that name from bug collecting."

"Cheeky. So tell me Mr. Bat, how did you enjoy my work last night? Was it invigorating?"

Bruce decided to answer him honestly, "I found it cruel and destructive without purpose. An affront to the livelihood of the good ponies who call Hooflyn home. In a word, senseless."

Firefly reeled, "Please don't hold back, tell me how you really feel." The jet on his back flared to life and the sleek pony began flying about. "You know I was quite upset with you, ruining my fun, jeopardizing my contract. My blood was nearly at a boil, I'm much calmer now, I have my level head on straight you could say."

Bruce too was moving about, trying to keep out of sight yet keep a visual on the target. "So then you're rational enough to surrender yourself to the police? I hear the commissioner is a lot more lenient on informants with solid info." A fabrication of the highest degree, but anything to resolve the situation peacefully first.

"HA! AHA-HA-HA-" His manic laughing broke down into asthmatic weazing and into violent coughing. "You sir are off your rocker, are you sure I'm the crazy one? Me surrender?"

"Just thought I'd offer you the chance before I kick your flank."

"Ooh big talk from the Bat pussy who hasn't even shown his face yet."

"You'll get that pleasure soon enough." Lynns or Firefly was moving along nicely, if he could just lure him into the right spot then perhaps the fight could be over before it began. "So then, what motivated you to commit these evil acts? Madness, compulsion to destroy?"

"The money quite naturally."

"And how much money is in burning down poor houses in Hooflyn?"

"Why? Looking to encroach on my territory?" Firefly laughed heartily again, it was bravado and nothing else.

"If it's money alone then surely there are easier ways to get it for a pony with your skills. The explosives you created could easily rend the steel of a bank vault door." The evidence from how he set up the arson was clear, "You could have placed all your bombs on the central gas main and leveled the building without a fire. Instead you scattered them all throughout, exactly where the firefighters would travel. You weren't just trying to burn the apartment, you wanted to kill."

Firefly was silent for a time, his face was unreadable but his body was an open book. He'd been found out, "Hmm, you're smarter than you look. At least I assume so, still haven't seen your mug up close. Well I suppose this is the part where I reveal my tragic backstory then, isn't it?" Bruce would have replied, 'I don't particularly care.' But if it kept him talking and flying into his trap he would listen.

"Le me guess, you got burned in a chemical factory?"

"I was just a colt Batman, on a vacation with my p-pu-parents. We were laying over in Baltimare, going to fly out in the morning, that's when I learned what true evil was."

If it happened when he was a colt then logic led him to, "Tirek?"

"NO NOT B@#*ING TIREK! He at least had the decency to try and end my miserable existence quickly. No, true evil was my p-parents giving me false hope that they'd save me. But did they? NO! NO! NOnONoNO! They just stood there and laughed as I screamed as I burned as I boiled as I blistered as I died... I should have died, but they wouldn't let me! True evil was the wretched dogs that pulled me from my grave and threw me onto the cold steel table."

From his view above it was clear that this madman was quickly loosing what little control he once had. And still Bruce felt sadness, 'everypony lost something to Tirek,' that was what was said to him earlier. He lost his happy home town, Sunny lost his farm, this poor soul lost his sanity.

"True evil was the surgeons who grafted and cut, sewn and sutured until they left me like this!" The pony ripped the mask off his face exposing his nightmarish features. A face no longer recognizable as equine, flesh burnt till it resembled an old leather coat rather than the supple skin of a twenty something. "Instead of letting me die they made my life misery, I can't feel anything anymore, I'm numb to the world!"

"And you're numb to the suffering you've caused as well I can see." Bruce waited till just the moment before he would pass under the cauldron, "Why don't we bring back some of that feeling?" With a press of a button the several ton steel vessel turned over sending it's contents pouring down on Firefly. The instant it came into contact, the pilot light on his flame thrower went out and his jet pack extinguished sending him plummeting to the floor.

"What the?! Get this shite offa me!" He looked like a mewling baby writing around in a puddle of it's milky vomit. Despite the disgusting analogy Bruce didn't hesitate to dive from his hiding spot, laying a devastating haymaker punch as he fell. His face was slack and blood seeped from the tired lines, to be sure he pulled back his eye lids, they were lolling back into the sockets.

Quickly he began unstrapping his equipment and tossing it aside, but he wasn't prepared for what he found underneath the tank. A small ordinance with a piece of cable strapped to the fuel tank. By trying to pull it off he'd unintentionally set off a booby trap on Firefly's own body. As fast as possible he wheeled around and dove as far as his hind legs could throw him, which was surprisingly far thanks to the adrenaline coursing to his heart.

Thankfully Bruce didn't find himself vaporized, mutilated or rained upon by chunks of Firefly, instead it was a different kind of trap. The room was filling with a blinding smoke that stung the eyes, though vision was obscured his hearing was unimpaired. He could distinctly hear the sound of hooves scrambling about, no doubt collecting the liberated tools of destruction. Clearly Firefly had the advantage for the moment, rather than attack blindly and leave himself open for a counter he struck a defensive pose and tried to reach out with his senses.

"Had'ya fooled didn't I? Don't feel bad though, part of my profession entails me pulling the wool over doctor's eyes every day. You're just a sap like the rest of em'." Bruce realized almost too late that the voice was now behind him, "So why don't ya' burn like the rest of em'?" A stream of searing death shot forth, washing over and seeping through every small crack in the armor. "Don't even bother running away, with these thermal goggles I can track your every movement. So sit back and bake like a pie!"

Even through the fire and the flames Bruce kept a clear mind and carried on. His opponent really shouldn't have mentioned such a glaring weakness but them's the breaks. In his belt in an insulated capsule he carried a small portion of thermite, a wonderful substance that when mixed properly can burn at over four thousand degrees. Bruce almost felt sorry for the blindness this was about to cause, almost.

"That's right baby, burn burn burn! Hey wat're ya-" Instantaneously Bruce leaped from his stance and closed the distance between them, laying punch after punch on his face. All the while the flamethrower was still firing full throttle, catching more of the building on fire. He was sure it would be unsafe to continue the fight inside for much longer so he gave one more knockout blow before attaching a grapple to his frame to haul him outside.

As he towed the limp body behind him toward the door a very welcome sound could be heard rounding the street corners, the ever piercing blare of the fire engine siren. Once outside Bruce took a seat to examine his person, the fireproof armor he'd cobbled together had held up nicely. Unfortunately there were one or two gaps necessary for ease of movement which were singed, nothing a good mane cut wouldn't solve.

He kept on eyeing Firefly with suspicion if he'd fooled him once Bruce was sure not to let it happen again. Without even getting up from his seat he took aim and threw one of his sharpened batarangs, cutting the fuel line to the tank on his back, effectively neutering the threat.

He didn't have to wait much longer for the fire engines to arrive and begin putting out the infant blaze, among the operators were some familiar faces from the night before, the fire chief, Sunny Shine along with several police squad cars and ambulances. "Mmm, you hear that Firefly? Sounds like an awful lot of ponies who'd like to put you behind bars for a long time."

"Too bad I'll be flying away!" It was getting ridiculous at this point, how many times do you have to knock a pony down before they stop trying to get back up? The jet engine roared to life once more and he rocketed into the skies, though he quickly found out the hard way his body was tethered to the ground. "Why you sonofa- I'll roast your insides!"

He went to fire and to his credit Bruce tried to stop him but he couldn't be stopped, the now leaking flamethrower fuel was trickling full force to the exposed jet exhaust. Once it touched he went up like a miniature star burning in mid-day, the fire spread to the tank and it blew up both his jetpack and flamethrower sending him careening to the ground. He was running about like a chicken with it's head cut off if that chicken was also burning to death.

"You think we should put him out?" One of the fire fighters asked.

"Naw, this is too great. Plus he's fireproof so it could go on all day."

Since nopony else was eager to do the humane thing Sunny Shine stepped up and took the hose spaying down the self immolating arsonist till he was soaked to the bone. "Sorry I'm late Batman, this punk set fires in places all over Hooflyn before coming here. I bet he was expecting we'd be tied up so long he'd get away scott-free."

Bruce could finally take a breath, his part of the job was over and it was time to give Firefly over to the authorities. "He's all your's colts, I think it goes without saying at this point but don't underestimate this one."

*****

"-And then he blew up the ambulance he was in and tried escaping ... again."

"You're kidding!"

"No, I wish I was Silver. Had to hunt him down and subdue him all over again."

"Hopefully the prison is up to holding him, I'd hate to find out a pony like that was walking free."

"Actually he's been committed to the Everfree asylum for mental evaluation. With how nutso he is I doubt he'll even get to trial." It was perturbing to Bruce but at the very least he was away from anypony he could harm. And who knew, maybe time with Fluttershy could heal his disturbed mind. Then true justice could be served for the ponies of Hooflyn.

Until that day Bruce would be content that he'd done his best. He carried that thought with him as he drifted off to sleep, laying his head near the pony he loved, watching the embers crackle and pop in the fireplace.

Author's Note

Hope ya'll enjoyed this first ark in the new format, next up is a twist on the master of fear tactics, the psychiatrist more deranged than his patients. Scarecrow.

Again sorry for this chapter taking so long, this time it was taxes taking up my spare time. Taxes and a full time job.

A nightmare in Ponyville: part one

It was a familiar scene Bruce found himself wandering in, a Gotham city night many years ago. The air was crisp and the streets glowed with an orange tint. Out from the theater walked a happy family of three, mother, father and child had just seen a rousing action film. Without thinking twice the father guides them down an alleyway, hoping it will cut off some inconsequential minutes from their walk home.

In this lucid state Bruce walked ahead of them, fully aware of what was about to happen. The alley was hazy and poorly lit only by the reflections of a neon sign on the other side. He wondered to himself if he'd been more aware, could he have spotted the thieves and murderers laying in waiting behind the swirling blue smoke? Through his vivid imagination he almost saw one of them, though the shape seemed off.

The nightmare proceeded as it always did, as his own history did. His younger self skipping down into the dark path with a bag of popcorn in hand, mother and father not too far behind, their son bringing a smile to their faces. Then the mugger emerged brandishing a long barreled revolver, he grabbed at the string of pears around her neck breaking the necklace, sending valuable beads skittering across the cobblestone.

Father stepped in between them without thinking and was repaid with a bullet in the heart, his body violently falling backward into a puddle of standing water. Only a moment later but what seemed like an eternity mother was next, her beautiful fur shawl stained with mud and her own cold blood. Though Bruce wanted to look away it would serve no purpose, even if he closed his eyes the horrific images were burned into his memory like a brand on a bull.

Instead he only stood and stared at the poor child before him, who just watched everything wonderful in his life get torn to shreds in an instant. He knew the rest by heart, the boy too shocked to move would stand their while the murderer prepared to kill him too. Just before it could happen a policeman's whistle would scare him off, to disappear into the blue smoke and never be brought to justice.

Though this time his ever repeating nightmare took a strange turn, to his astonishment he watched the gun turned at the phantom of his youth fire. It was horrifying beyond what he could explain, what more the action brought what seemed like real pain though it was only perceived. As the inner child lay bleeding in the street the phantom of the killer did something new and terrifying, acknowledge Bruce.

"Tell me, how does it make you feel that I can do this to you in your dreams? Does it make you afraid?" Bruce refused to answer, instead he tried to judge the being in front of him. "No? Not even a twinge of panic at seeing poor little Bruce Wayne getting shot in the face? How about this then?" With his word the three imagined corpses on the ground began to twist and writhe, sounds of breaking bones and pained moans could be heard as their battered frames arose and began to shamble toward Bruce.

He couldn't help but feel frightened, it was an icy fear like some invisible hand was on him drawing all the warmth from his body. But that feeling didn't last long, "I don't know who or what you are but you are not welcome in my mind." Remembering he was the master of his own psyche he conjured up a powerful wind that erased the animated corpses from existence, though the killer stayed stationary the disguise he wore was removed.

The being was menacing even by Bruce's standards, an equine looming twenty feet tall or even higher, his height seemed to grow with every moment. He was garbed in sackcloth and a beat up pointed had exactly like you would dress a scarecrow in. A sickening blue smoke poured through every seam on his cloth. And when he spoke he could feel his whole mind shake, "Mwhahaha, ah I can feel it. We're so close now, the fears of the self assured are always the strongest. Just a little bit more and we can-"

The titan scarecrow didn't get to finish it's sentence before a devastating beam of light stuck it with ferocity. An even more authoritative voice spoke up demanding attention, "I've found you demon! Return from whence you came and stop haunting the dreams of my subjects or face the wrath of the Princess of the Night!"

"Princess Luna!" Bruce said excitedly, it had been some time since he's last seen his mentor. To have her personally come to his aid was all the more heartening.

"Ah my student, I did not realize the Tantabus had wandered into your dream. Join me in fending it off will you?" He hastened to her side and together sent out a devastating volley of mental projection blasts, a psychic self defense technique she'd taught him years ago. Their combined strength was more than the beast was willing to put up with. With a swipe of it's ethereal hoof it tore a hole in the very fabric of Bruce's dream and slithered out.

With the Tantabus in full retreat Luna was quickly on it's tail, "Make haste student! Of whom did you dream tonight?"

"What?"

"When a pony dreams of another it creates a weak psychic connection between the two. Once Tantabus is finished feeding in one dream he uses the links created by his victims to find a new target. I need to know who you dreamt of so we can stop it before he grows too strong." There was an urgency in her words matched with impatience.

"I only dreamt of the long dead and gone, as I always do." Bruce said with sadness.

Luna halted her flight and came to Bruce's side, "You still cannot escape the memory of that terrible night?"

"No, I'm not sure I should."

"Student- Bruce. What happened when you were a child was beyond you're control, you need to set the events aside if you are to move on with you're life."

"And what about when I lost control? Should I just set that aside as well?" He didn't need to elaborate, she knew full well what he meant.

"*sigh* No, you can never forget what happened just as I can not forget I nearly ended life in Equestria as we know it. But torturing yourself with bad dreams to constantly remind ourselves is not a penance. It only serves to harm yourself and stunt you're emotional growth as a pony. A true penance is learning from the mistakes we all make and doing something constructive and beneficial with it. I routinely seek out my subjects who's sleep is troubled and you have you're crusade."

Even now as a full grown stallion his mentor still stood high above him, yet it was comforting. She even wrapped a wing around Bruce like a mother hen gathering her chicks into the safety and warmth of her breast. "I- Thank you Princess."

"Hush, the hunt continues, we can speak more in depth once Tantabus is subdued and returned to me."

"What do you mean returned to you?"

"That too we can discuss at length." A glow emitted from the princesses' horn and an ornately carved oak door materialized. "Come, we'll search the in-between realm for anypony having unnaturally bad dreams."

He was just about to depart when a thought occurred to him, "Now that I think about it I did go to sleep thinking about Silver Spoon. Oh god, is that enough for that monster to get to her?"

"It very well may be, there's no time to waste!" Luna ran through the open passage and Bruce followed. The realm he was greeted by was mind boggling, seemingly endless rows of doors stretching out for infinity.

"Is this where you access ponies dreams from?"

"Indeed, though originally it was much more abstract, I've had plenty of time to forge it into something more comprehendable." She was taking great pleasure in showing off her craftsmanship even though it didn't physically exist. "This one is the door to your mate's dream, do you like the silver relief on the trim? I like to personalize the doors of everypony I visit."

Bruce had to admit it was gorgeous, he was about to open the door to enter when Luna stopped him. "Is something wrong?"

"Before you go, have you ever discussed with each-other what you dream about?"

"Well- no, that is it's never really come up. Why?"

"No reason, just that you may wish to steady yourself for what you may see. I find Silver Spoon's dreams to be ... never mind it, you'll understand soon enough."

"I'm sure whatever it is I can handle it." Without hesitation Bruce opened up the door and stepped inside. What he was greeted by quickly dashed his previous confidence.

Author's Note

I love writing dream chapters, so much opportunity for creativity.

This used to be a place where you could leave your doors unlocked

Ponyville, Equestria. At one point in time it used to be a quaint little burg with a few hundred residents, at one time. But allot can change in fifteen years, for instance would you be suppressed to return home only to find nothing of what once was your home remained? Not the familiar bakery you spent your afternoons in with your friends, none of the century old houses that dotted the lanes. Even the public library carved out of a ancient oak tree, now replaced with a gaudy castle of colored glass.

If you were to look at the promotional material for Ponyville you would be assaulted by slogans claiming it to be the 'capital of friendship.' Ask anypony on the street and they'd give it to you straight, even more so than Fillydelphia or Las Pegasus, Ponyville had become the capital of crime. A city with a higher rate of burglaries, muggings, murders and racketeering than anywhere else in Equestria. How things got so bad so fast is still a mystery. It had seemed like a bright future was ahead of them, the re-building work promised both growth and opportunity for all.

To combat the pervasive lawlessness was the police force, led by veteran officer turned Commissioner Oats. But even a well-trained force cannot stand strong when they're being undermined and overwhelmed. Some would blame the ineffectiveness on the rumors circulating, certain officers being in the pockets of the big crime families.

So it wasn't such a shock when walking down the dead streets to find one or two gruesome sights on your way, malcontents beating a drunk for what little he had, a limp body hanging halfway out of a dumpster. Two criminals sitting high up on the roof of an apartment building, going through the spoils of the night.

The two were the kind of ponies who would often remain nameless, content to remain in the background doing their wicked work until society caught up with them. Once more forcing a name on them, forever associating it with their crimes. Sitting on the lip of the apartment was a wretch of a pony, smaller than average with bloodshot eyes. To his left resting against a vent was the dominant one of the pair.

Stocky and mangy would describe him well, his face looked like a display box at a jewelry store covered in ghastly piercings. In one hoof he carried a designer mare's purse, in the other he held the object he used to obtain the purse. A 'Fetlock Peacemaker' or as everypony prefers to call them, 'Guns.'

The gun was a relatively new invention and already it was revolutionizing the way crime was committed. No longer would you need to sneak up on a target or corner them. With a 'Gun' even the weakest of stallions with ill temper could steal the lives of others in broad daylight. Needless to say that wasn't what the 'Gun' was developed for. At the time of its development tensions were rising between Equestria and the militarily strong Griffons. Should war have broken out it was deemed necessary to have some way for Equestria's mostly grounded army to fight the airborne opponent.

But war never came and the military sold the patent to the Fetlock Corporation, a killing was made on the market. With slogans like 'It's your duty to protect your family. Buy a Fetlock today!' Of course overprotective fathers who bought into the hype weren't the only ones. Both the crime families and police made it standard issue.

The pierced pony twirled his piece, listening to the *Click Click Click* of the rotating chamber. The shrewish thief was beyond nervous, with each *Click* he gave a noticeable twinge. "Why the Tartarus did you point that thing at that kid?"

The other looked at him with contempt, "Do I really have to explain basic robbery to you Rat? Step one, get a 'Gun.' Step two, find some unsuspecting saps and point said 'Gun.' Step three, tell them you’re going to put a bullet in their B*#@ing heads if they don't hoof over their dough. Step four, beat it with said dough." He went back to pawing through the contents of the purse, tossing away junk like old cough drops and used tissues.

"Y-yeah, b-but you still shouldn't have pointed that thing at the kid. That's what Gobbs did before-"

"What d'ya mean? Gobbs got piss drunk and walked off the roof."

The mousy thug shook his head fearfully, "Naw that ain't what I heard at all, I heard the Bat got to 'im."

"The 'Bat'? What are you five? There ain't no freak show that's flyin' round pushin our kind off buildn's." The thug with the piercings took a long drag from his cigarette and tossed it aside.

"He didn't throw him off, he jumped. The 'Bat' did something so awful to him he jumped himself!" a cold creeping sensation was on the two criminals, almost as if they weren't alone.

Piercings shook it off, "Man you're just paranoid, you gotta stop smoking that 'joke' it's B*#@ing up your mind."

"I haven't touched it in weeks, honest. That's why I'm scared, what the Tartarus could he have done to make Gobbs want to do the five story high dive?" the mousy little thief didn't have to wait long for an answer, a menacing shadow stretched out and covered the two.

"You wan't me to tell you?" asked the figure.

To the absolute horror of Rat, standing tall behind them was the fabled 'Bat.' Rumors of him had been spreading through the underground for weeks. Some said he was a vampire pony who feasted on lowlifes, other claimed he was like a ghost and no matter how much you shot him he'd never go down. Picking himself off the ledge Rat screamed, "Oh B*#@, Oh Celestia, Oh Luna!" And turned tail and ran.

Pierce wasn't as frightened, 'So what he's a freak show in a cape. And what a cape it was, long and black, shrouding his entire body. His face obscured by a mask with pointed ears, he did indeed earn the nick name. "You think you scare me?" Pierce asked, the bat didn't answer. Pierce didn't mind, he leveled the Fetlock's iron sights on him and squeezed off three shots. They landed square in the chest, he was sure of it. The bat fell and lay motionless, Pierce turned to find Rat on the top rung of the fire escape.

"Get back over here you p*#@%, your 'Bat' is dead." Pierce shouted.

Rat paused on the escape and looked back, he saw the lifeless body on the ground and his heart rate slowed down. "Sorry Pierce I just got-" His voice left him, in greater terror than before he saw the 'Bat' rising from the floor walking to Pierce.

"Oh come on, why are you run-iiiiing!" Pierce found himself no longer firmly planted on the ground but soaring through the air. With a solid crash he impacted on one of the brick chimney, a vinegar taste filled his mouth as blood escaped his bitten tongue. Pierce watched through half unconscious eyes as the 'Bat' took something off his belt which made a *Whosh* followed by unholy squealing from Rat, not unlike a stuck pig.

The 'Bat' reeled in his catch, a one hundred fifty pound mugger strait up the side of the apartment. Through what must have been his body armor Pierce could see very well defined muscles and veins. "Nah uh, you aren't getting away." said the 'Bat.' His voice was deep and scratchy, almost as if he was forcing it to go that low.

As he hoisted Rat back onto the roof he slammed him against the same chimney as his cohort. Rat was like one of his cornered namesakes, "Please man don't kill me, don't drink my blood! I-I-I do allot of drugs a-and I'm pretty sure I have some STD's, so you'd get sick!"

In his woozy state Pierce looked at his fellow, "Seriously?"

"I'm not going to drink your blood, I'm going to do something much worse!" Both criminals cringed in expectation. "I'm going to lecture you about your poor life choices." For a couple of seconds it seemed all of Ponyville fell silent.

"WHAT?!" demanded Pierce.

The 'Bat' waggled a disapproving hoof at the two, "I've been watching you two all-night you know, the break in of high street and that poor family you held up just a few minutes ago." The 'Bat' scooped up the contents of the purse, turning over a yellowed photograph. A mother, father and young colt standing close together and smiling. Inward rage started to flare up but he set it aside. "Surely you must realize that this kind of lifestyle has no happy end."

Pierce was coming out of his concussion induced stupor and was not happy to be preached at, "Happy endings? Who the B*#@ do you think we is? You gotta be Filthy Rich or one a da Melody's if you wanna happy ending as a crook."

The name struck at the 'Bat' like barb wire across his face, but he didn't let it show, "So what then is your end goal? Eek out a meager existence, causing harm to your fellow pony until the law catches up with you or you get shot up yourself?"

The nervous Rat proposed, "I'm just waiting for the big score then I'm off to Panamare." He then shrunk back when he saw the icy glare of the 'Bat.' "Besides we was pulled into our line of work, we don't have a choice."

The 'Bat' shook his head, "But you do have a choice, let me explain." And he did, for several hours.

*****

"So what you'ze is sayin' is by committing crimes to earn money we are in fact, limiting our own chances to get out and furthering our dependence on ill-gotten gain?" asked Rat.

"It's almost like we're perpetuating a vicious cycle, a veritable Klein Bottle of crime." commented Pierce.

"I would say a Mobius Strip of crime instead." retorted Rat.

"A cycle that can only end in tragedy, truly we have been sitting and spinning our wheels. But tell us, what can we do to get out of the cycle?" So the 'Bat' explained it to them, for hours.

*****

"Does what I'm saying make sense to you?" asked The 'Bat.'

"I think it does, if we ever want to go straight then we'll have to make some serious changes in the way we live." said Rat.

Pierce nodded in agreement, "To stop associating with others who encourage criminal behavior and to find a way to earn money on the right side of the law."

"It won't be easy, but now you know what steps you'll have to take. I'll be rooting for the both of you." The 'Bat' gave a smile that offset his harsh exterior.

"I can't believe we've been talking for this long without addressing you'z by a proper name." said Pierce.

The black clad earth pony seemed to grow in stature, as if all eyes in Ponyville were on him. "I am the dark protector of this city, a child born of the night. I am vengeance, I am justice, I am forgiveness, I am ... Batman!"

"Needs some work," said Rat.

"Yeah it doesn't really flow off the tongue, besides what's a 'Man?' I would have gone with Batmane myself." said Pierce.

Batman felt a bit hurt at that, "Well, nopony asked you anyway." He turned away grumpily.

"There's one thing I'm still confused about Batman, what did you do to Gobbs to make him jump off that building?" asked Rat.

The Batman seemed saddened, "I didn't do anything to him, we were making some good progress and he told me he was going to skip town to escape the dealers and mafia. He was going to turn his life around, then he had a drink to celebrate ... And another and another, until."

Pierce turned to Rat with a smug look on his face, "I told you he got pissed, but no, it was the Batman's unspeakable terrors."

"Sorry I suspected you Batman, poor Gobbs though." Rat felt sorrow for his acquaintance who almost got away. He was going to thank the Bat for opening their eyes and showing them a way out of the destructive path, but he was already gone.

"Come on Rat, let's go mail this mare's purse back to her." Pierce said as he patted him on the back.

*****

The cave was anything but quiet, loud electric hums from the state of the art super computer. Chirping calls of the nocturnal flying mammals that Batman shared it with. But he liked it that way, it helped make the spacious place seem more alive. As he took off the mask belt and body armor he took a moment to look at the flattened rounds embedded in the Kevlar, silently thanking whichever pony invented it.

Underneath the costume and facade of the Batman was a stallion most anypony in Ponyville could recognize. His dull gray-blue coat, slick jet black mane and piercing blue eyes. The pair of scales on his flank was proof enough that underneath the mask was none other than Bruce Wayne. World famous industrialist known for making his first billion bits before turning twenty, three times voted Equestria's most attractive stallion and overall pretty well liked pony.

Hurriedly he trotted up the narrow stairs carved out of the cave wall and to the nondescript doorway. Bruce didn't dare look at the clock as he made his way out of the secret passage. He knew he was late, he knew she had been waiting for him. Bruce locked the sliding panel door that divided Rich manor to the underground caves which he used as a base of operations. He hadn't made it far before a light clicked on, an old reading lamp in the servant’s quarters soon followed by the kitchen light.

Shambling into the hallway came the aged butler of the Rich family, Randolph, now in his late eighties but still as spry as ever. The white headed stallion was pleased to see his master returning safely, "Master Wayne, good of you to finally come home."

"It's only a couple of hours to sunrise, I know." He sheepishly said anticipating what the pony who had raised him would say. "She isn't up there waiting for me, is she?"

"Indeed the mistress has been staying up ever since you departed tonight, I dare say she's quite upset." said Randolph.

Bruce bit his lip; he almost wished he had ridden out the rest of the night outside. "Well I'd better go up there and do some damage control. Any advice for me old colt?"

Randolph looked him over with a disapproving glower on his muzzle, "I would advise a shower before confronting the mistress, your mane is a mess and you, *Sniff* smell of cheap cigarettes and even cheaper whisky."

"Ever the honest one, I'll go take that shower. You can get back to sleep Randolph, I'll see you in the morning." The butler left him and turned out the lights on his way back to his abode. Meanwhile, Bruce found his way to the downstairs bath and slipped into the tiled shower. As the beads of hot water poured across his thick fur he could feel the filth of the city washing off of him.

Bruce decided to use that time to prepare what he would say, 'Sorry love, I just seemed to lose track of time.' No that won’t work 'I made some good progress tonight; I helped two criminals start to turn their lives around.' While he felt she would be pleased by that, Bruce doubted that would save him from the doghouse.

After a few more minutes in the shower he felt he had wasted enough time. The entire bath was filled with obscuring steam, to the point he couldn't find the towel rack to dry off. As he groped around in the mist his hoof graced something soft that wasn't the towel. "Oh, hello dear."

With a flick of a switch the motorized fan kicked on and cleared the steam and de-fogged the mirror. Not that Bruce needed that to know who was in the bathroom with him. The soft supple touch of his bedfellow he would always recognized. Her tone was not as soft, "Do you have any, ANY idea how worried I've been about you?!" The fog cleared from her blue rimmed glasses and Bruce could see the tears in Silver Spoon's eyes.

He thought about using one of his prepared statements, he thought about trying to justify being so late, but in the end he could only embrace her tightly. "I know dear, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." Bruce's soggy fur pressed against hers, and he placed a tender little kiss on her lips.

"Oh stop that," Silver said, fussing over the wet patches of her fur. "Towel off and come to bed, you can tell me about what was more important than spending time with your loving marefriend in the morning."

As she left the bath Bruce let out a sigh of relief, he very much disliked sleeping on the couch. "Dodged a bullet there."

Author's Note

I figured a good way to launch this story was by having a homage to the opening of my favorite Batman film, Tim Burton's 'Batman'.

If your confused as to why Bruce is acting the way he is or why he's in a relationship with Silver Spoon? Please go read the story this is a sequel to. I promise you it'll answer most of your questions and it's an enjoyable read.

An ending to madness

"Sir are you absolutely certain of this?" Randolph's words of concern echoed through Bruce's mind. Of course he'd said he was but that was a lie. A lie to the pony who'd raised him and a lie to himself, this was untested technology he was sitting in, never even test flown. But ready or not, regardless of certainty Bruce was now two thousand feet in the air and climbing on his way to the Cloudsdale weather factory.

Assuming the bat shaped jet didn't disintegrate mid flight and assuming that was the location Screwball was in, he'd have his work cut out for him. The plan was simple. Step one, locate Screwball and access the situation. Step two, subdue her. Step three, place the magic null on her, that pretty little piece of bronze rested nicely inside one of the pouches on his utility belt. Step four ... That was the tricky part for Bruce, what to do afterward.

He couldn't very well say, 'Hello Ms. Rich, you don't know me but I'm actually you're adoptive son and you've been in a state of mental unrest for nearly three decades.' That's the kind of speech that's liable to get you slapped, or worse. As the Bat jet continued it's climb through the troposphere he couldn't help but be distracted by the pink clouds on is left. From a certain angle they were quite beautiful, unnatural yet beautiful.

If the plane did survive the flight one of the top priorities was heaters, he hadn't quite realized how cold it got up in the sky and pony fur can only offset minus zero temperatures so much. After a few minutes of ascent with only the sound of jet engines a proximity alarm began blaring. A peek through the view finder revealed he'd arrived, it also betrayed the fact that the factory was surrounded by dozens of uniformed pegasi.

With visuals he counted twenty on the north wall, radar showed many more. Before anypony could spot him Bruce reeled back the turbines and flew in directly underneath the factory. "Damn, no proper place to land this thing." Even if he were to explain his permission from the commissioner to investigate this case he doubted he'd ever gain admission to a building under siege. That left only the option of testing out the jet's most interesting add-on.

"Reverse thrusters engaged, docking clamps deployed and ... Gotcha!" A bright yellow glow began emanating from the metal claws, they were now charged with the same magic found in every Pegasus, the power that makes something as wispy as a cloud like solid mater. The miracles of modern engineering were allowing a one ton personal jet to grasp onto the bottom of a building, hanging upside down just as a bat.

Nimbly he ejected from the cockpit and made his way to what was the floor of the building. "I should have just enough inside my pouch. I just hope I don't hit anything important with this stuff." Silently the Batman did his work, unaware of what was going on inside the room directly above him.

*****

Screwball was getting anxious, she wasn't used to anxiety. Even though the asylum was a dull place it was calm. Her room was nice and soft, just like a pillow, the nurses made good targets for punting around and the nice mare who ran the place even knew daddy. This factory was nothing like the dull room. Nothing but cold steel, sterile machines and screaming hostages, although admittedly those were her addition.

She was growing tired, the waiting was taking a toll on her fragile psyche, it was getting so bad that she was hallucinating little red dots chasing her every time she neared a window, now she completely avoided them out of fear. The fear was dredging up the doubt from the depths of her mind once more. 'What if he's not coming?' 'What will happen if those angry red dots catch me?' 'What if, what if?' Straining her mind always gave her headaches, although she had the vaguest of an inkling that she used to be quite good at it.

"Please miss, I'm sure if you co-operate with the police then nopony will get harmed." Said the brave soul Screwball was currently sitting on. "We're all just engineers, trying to provide for our families. Please, if you must have a hostage then I'll stay, but please let the others go." The stallion's voice was firm but betrayed a hint of terror, he was well past his prime, probably in his fifties or sixties. Despite his age he still had a strong enough back to haul Screwball to and fro.

'Families. Family. Daughter. Husband.' Little flashes came across her mind, not so much pictures or words, but ideas. Mr. Suit and Die Tie, why were they in her thoughts? "S-Shut Up!" Like an unruly child Screwball struck at the stallion, pistol whipping him with the but of the revolver. As he fell unconscious and collapsed onto the floor, bright blood began to stain his rainbow mane. Screwball was stranded, left stationary on an island of flesh in a sea of cloud.

"Well mother b*#@er." Now she'd gone and done it, shot herself in the proverbial hoof. No way to move about the room, no way to fight the big bat, assuming he even was coming. "What's the point anyway?! I did what you wanted daddy, why didn't you take me home?" In frustration she threw the revolver Discord had given her away. She fully expected it to fly through the floor and down to the Sodom bellow, instead something interesting happened.

The gun skittered about like a puck on ice until it stopped near the cloud making machine. Tentatively Screwball prodded at the floor with a hoof, it was solid, it was metal. "What the? You there! This is the sky how is there a floor?"

One of the bound up hostages replied, "Well how else could we keep all this vital equipment up here?"

"B-but, how is there a solid floor in the clouds?"

"Oh it's really simple. First the cloud surface is electrically charged and treated with a hardening agent, then-"

"What are you doing? Don't talk to the terrorist! Look where it got Rainbow Blaze!"

"Sorry, I thought I should explain. She was riding around on Rainbow Blaze's back, I thought maybe she was disabled or something."

"Speaking of Rainbow Blaze, you'd better pray he's alright. His daughter is in the Wonderbolts, you'd better believe she's gonna kick your flank four ways from Sunday once she gets gets here."

"Um Clear Skies, don't talk to the terrorist."

"Oh right."

Screwball didn't care about any Wonderbolts or Wondercolts, despite her reservations her only concern was to face the big hairy bat, just like daddy had asked her to. And now she had solid footing to stand on, things were finally turning up Screwball-

*KABOOOM!*

A massive explosion rocked the building, the room filled with dust and airborne debris. Over the terrified screams of the hostages the sound of metal rending filled the air. When the dust settled the massive machine that promised the demise of the engineers was no more, the cloud maker had fallen through the gaping new hole.

"Oh for the love of- Sorry everypony!" With great dexterity the Batman swung himself through the hole and into the room. "I promise I'll pay for any damages I've caused."

"Who gives a crap about damages?! Get us down from here!" Demanded the most temperamental of the hostages.

"Not so fast Bat, I've been waiting for you." To the horror of the hostages and Batman alike, Screwball had her hoof resting on one of the trip wires holding them aloft. Even though the death trap was no longer there, each and every pegasi was still tied up without ability to fly away. "Nopony is going home until we've had our fight."

Bruce didn't have to think twice, he'd made it to his goal and found Screwball. Now his first duty was to the safety of the civilians. "Alright, you'll get you're fight, but first there's something I'll need you to do."

"And that would be?"

"Stay right there." In a blink of an eye Bruce unleashed a batarang from his belt, striking at his adoptive mother's hoof. It didn't draw blood but it stung worse than a bee, in shock she reeled back. Quickly he turned to the hostages with a knife in hoof, "Hold on for just a moment, I'll get you loose." While Bruce worked on the ropes he completely missed her crawling across the floor like a worm, stealthily sneaking towards the fallen gun on the floor.

With a satisfying snap the ropes tore and the wings of all unfurled, "Thank Celestia! You don't know how awful this has been. Oh, you may want to turn around now."

Standing behind him was Screwball, gun raised and ready to fire. "Tell me Batsy, have you ever danced with the-" Bruce didn't even let her finish, in a feat that tested the flexibility of his armor he pulled a backflip closing the distance between them. His rear hooves slammed onto Screwball's shoulders, slamming her to the ground.

"You folks better get out of here and to the police. Take that injured stallion with you as well. I'll hold her down till you're all safe." Bruce shifted his position to a point where he could force her front legs out, keeping her pinned to the floor.

"Thank you sir! But who are you? How did you know to come save us? Are you an actual Bat Pony?" Asked the one of the freed pegasi as he picked up his injured comrade.

"None of that is important right now, but if you must know my name is, Batman."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Oh nothing," The pegasi said as he exited the hole. "You just look like more of a Batmane instead."

Was it the universe playing a cruel joke on Bruce? Or was it gentle prodding to re-brand his moniker? Whatever the case, it served as enough distraction to allow Screwball to throw Batman off her back.

"You filthy flying rodent! I was about to have a catchy catchphrase and you interrupted me!"

"Screwball ... You're coming with me. I'm going to take you to you're family and you're going to get better. But first it's going to hurt." Bruce assumed a griffon fighting stance, preparing for a quick takedown. Unfortunately the fight would be anything but.

"Tell me Batsy, what's this little do-dad do?" In her left hoof she held a small rectangular object with a silver spike on the end.

"Wha- How did you get that?"

Screwball's face curled into a smile, "So it's important then? I got it when you were crushing my face with your thighs, gotta say Batsy, not a great view." She turned it over and found the little red button and pressed it. With great speed the tip shot out, carrying with it a high tension cable. The grapple wasn't aimed at a wall or structure as it was designed to do, rather she had it aimed directly at Bruce himself.

"*GWAR*" The bat suited pony howled in pain, that hook was designed to embed itself in the toughest of materials, it had no trouble making it through the half inch of Kevlar. True the grapple was never meant to be a weapon but it made for one helluva improvised one. Bruce was stunned, he would recover but for the moment he was open to attack. But Screwball didn't attack, she didn't follow up or go in for a killing blow. She just slowly meandered across the room with the other end of the grapple in hoof.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked through pained gasps.

Screwball remained oddly silent, her eyes transfixed on the gaping hole and the blue abyss outside. "I have an idea Batsy. Something that'll make daddy happy. But there's something you're going to have to do first."

With great trepidation Bruce asked, "And that is?"

"Take a dive." Without warning the pink mare walked out the hole while still holding tight to the grapple. Despite being roughly a hundred pounds heavier than Screwball Bruce was still being dragged to maw. In a last ditch effort mere inches from free fall he scraped one of his batarangs across the floor hoping to catch some groove, unfortunately in the end it only delayed the inevitable.

At well over a hundred miles an hour they fell, Bruce was frantically trying to deploy the glider function of his cape, meanwhile Screwball was laying back as if she were on some invisible recliner. "What took you so long? I was getting bored just hanging by a thread for so long."

"Are you out of your mind?! Wait let me rephrase that, you're out of your mind!"

"True, true."

"Why would you do that?!"

"It's the big finish to this lackluster rivalry."

"Wha?"

"It's really simple, as long as you don't think about it at all." There was no mania in her voice, only the dulcet tone of somepony who's at wits end. "When daddy and your fanatic let me go from the dull room they asked me to be a rival to you, I was supposed to fight you even beat you to a pulp but let you win in the end. Problem is, I'm kind of bad at following directions. I think instead it would be better if I just killed you now."

Bruce could feel his own blood seeping throughout the inside of his armor, the little voice inside his mind that told it as it is was screaming demise. "You always talk about your daddy and how you want to please him, wouldn't disobeying him make him angry with you?" He didn't really expect this line of reasoning to work, but he had to try.

"I know my daddy, I'm sure this is what he really wanted. It was you're fanatic who made him put up those silly restrictions."

Two thoughts occurred to Bruce, who was this fanatic? And more importantly, who was 'Daddy'? On the later point he had an inkling of an idea. "Tell me, your daddy, does he have two horns?"

"Oh yes, he has an antler like an elk's and a twisted horn like a goat's."

"I think I met you're daddy."

"Really?!"

"Oh yes, charming fellow. He even offered to take me straight to you so I could defeat you then and there."

*BANG*

"Liar! B*$#ing liar! Daddy would never do that!" With smoking gun in hoof Screwball panted heavily, her bullet had missed but just barely. "Hold still bat, let me take that lying head right off your body!"

*BANG*

Nimbly Bruce dodged the second round, he grabbed hold of the cable tethering them together and pulled. Against her will Screwball was dragged only a few feet away, a problem considering the length of her piece. "It's true you know, he also showed me where to find this."

*BANG*

Bruce opened up his pouch and retrieved the bronze amulet and held it out for her to see. "He said this will cure you, make you just the way you were before he changed you."

*BANG*

"No your lying! Daddy made me perfect just the way I am, he'd never do anything like that!" That last shot ended up sailing safely between Bruce's legs off to land somewhere in the oceans bellow.

*BANG*

"Believe or not Screwball, it doesn't matter to me. I made a promise, a promise to your daughter, I'm going to save you whether you want it or not." As Bruce moved in to place the necklace around her neck Screwball planted her hooves against his chest and pushed with all her might. The force sent her flying in the opposite direction and when she hit the end of the length it tugged on the steel spike embedded in Bruce's chest, the pain caused was so great he fainted.

In this stunned state he was completely open and defenseless, she didn't hesitate to take aim for her final shot. "Goodbye bat. While it was brief, I can't say I didn't enjoy playing with you."

*BANG*

Bruce wasn't sure how long he'd been out for, maybe half a minute given that the ground was now coming into clearer view. He also wasn't sure why he was still alive. He had no wounds other than that caused by the grapple hook, by all rights he was a sitting duck and he knew Screwball had one shot left. Nervously he looked around, to start out with she was nowhere in sight. A terrifying thought, she hadn't killed herself had she?

But no, after finding the grapple cable was leading above himself Bruce looked heavenward to find Screwball curled into a ball, weeping profusely. Being a kind pony at heart Bruce dared to ask what was the matter. "*Sniff* You win alright. You were telling the truth."

"What's with the sudden change?"

"You said my daddy wanted me to fail. That he wanted you to win. Well, this is the proof." In her hooves she held the gun, the gift from daddy Discord, meant to end the Batman. Except instead of a smoking barrel a little red flag with the word BANG written in comic sans was sticking out the end. "I was never meant to win, never even given a chance. Daddy was going to throw me out from the start, like a bag of moldy tangerines."

While she mourned and the two neared the rapidly approaching ground he once again searched for the amulet. It was safe, stuck on one of the spikes of his costume. "Screwball ... I can help you, if you'll just let me."

She tried to speak but her throat was choked up, instead she just motioned to him to give over the amulet. With great pain Bruce pulled on the cable once more removing any distance between them. The clasp came undone and the ornate chain wrapped her neck, the null itself shone like it never had before or since and for the briefest of moments the creature that was the daughter of Discord shrieked in pain before leaving the mind of Screwball.

It was done, it had been accomplished, Bruce had finished what he'd set out to do.

It was an odd sensation, holding this unconscious mare in his hooves. Much like how Filthy Rich was his father, she was his mother, though not by choice. Would she like him? Would she accept him as family? They were all questions for a later time, such as when they were safe at home and not falling at terminal velocity.

Carefully Bruce opened the pouch holding his spare parachute and strapped it onto her, pulled the strings and watched her fly right past him. Bruce to deployed his own bat parachute, which was just a normal parachute with his logo printed on the fabric. With only a few hundred feet to go a creeping feeling of paranoia began pressing upon him, he was forgetting something very important.

"Let's see, I saved the hostages, stopped Screwball, saved Screwball... All that's left is.. Oh s*#@ the jet!"

*****

Commissioner Oats was suffering from his third migraine headache this day. He'd already downed more aspirin than his doctor's said he should take in a week in the course of five hours, but it wasn't helping. Neither was the ringing telephone that nopony was bothering to pick up, just letting it ring on endlessly. He was about to tell off every desk jockey for it when he realized it was his own phone that was ringing.

"Oats here, what'ya want?"

"Commissioner sir, this is the chief of Cloudsdale security detail. You asked to be informed how the situation was progressing."

This perked Oats right up, "Has something happened?"

"I'm happy to report sir, that the situation here is now resolved and every hostage has been rescued with only one injury sustained, zero casualties."

"Really now! That's pretty impressive captain. Does that mean you had to take the shot then?"

"Negative sir, an unidentified fourth party intervened allowing the hostages to escape. We're still trying to track him down and the witness testimony from the hostages is sketchy at best."

"Let me guess, they aren't describing a pony dressed up as a bat are they?"

"W-why yes, but how did you know that sir? We've kept a tight lid on all information regarding the kidnapper and the case as per your instructions."

"Never you mind, let's just say Batman is an ally and leave it at that."

"Sir. Did you authorize this 'ally' to use explosives or destroy Cloudsdale public property?"

"He did what now?"

"Don't get me wrong commissioner, I trust your judgement. But I'd get this Bat fellow in line. Two points left to discuss now, still no sign of Screwball. Odds are she either left with this other pony or jumped out the hole he created."

"And the last thing?"

"We've impounded a certain, 'vehicle.' You won't believe where we found it, hanging upside down on the floor of the factory."

Author's Note

I know it might be kind of obvious but a super hero's job is to protect civilians first. It's a shame that a certain unnamed film about an uber man forgot that.

Sorry for the very long hiatus. It was never my intention to be away from writing this long. As some of you may know I took a vacation shortly after the last chapter was published. After that I ran into some trouble with my editor and we decided to part ways. Once that happened I found it hard to sit down and write, but I promise to try and keep a weekly or at the very least twice monthly update schedule.