Chapter Text
As long as there is a Gotham City there will be the shadow of a Bat looming over it.
April 26th of 1981, Bruce and Thomas Wayne are reported dead after a mugging gone wrong. Martha Wayne, the only survivor, was found in a hysteric state.
The blood never leaves her hands.
May 14th of 1981, Alfred Pennyworth, the last of Wayne Manor's staff is fired, the man refused all interview propositions.
He leaves with a shining recommendation letter and enough money to live his dreams. He spends the next years of his life wondering about the grieving woman that stayed in that empty house.
The years that follow are filled with rumors about Martha Wayne, the mystery behind the gigantic oak doors of Wayne State. The news columns occupy themselves with theories.
The Kane family secret: how hysteria is a plague amongst the women of the famous Gothamite family.
The Gotham Mail: does Martha Wayne intend to remarry?
What is she hiding? Reports indicate that the widow of Thomas Wayne was last seen in the Middle East.
Only one out of these claims was true.
September 12th, 1988,
A mysterious masked man assists in the arrest of mobster Carmine Falcone.
November 20th, 1988,
Who is "The Batman"?
December 1st, 1988,
Martha Wayne makes her first official appearance after the tragedy.
April 26th, 2008,
Batman and Joker are both reported dead after the fight.
May 12th, 2008,
Martha Wayne retires from Wayne Enterprises, Luke Fox is appointed as CEO.
For fifty years Martha Wayne survives on her own.
Until she wakes up in a coffin.
Martha opens her eyes, the familiarity of the nightmare washes through her as she feels the joints in her back complaining because of the hard surface she is lying in. The smell is what triggers her senses: wet dirt and rotting flesh.
She opens her eyes and sees nothing at all, raising her hand to feel the wooden surface of some kind of box.
She takes a deep breath, calculating how much air is left. In the darkness, Batman smiles and starts digging.
It is a sunny morning in Gotham City, one of the rare ones. Alfred Pennyworth gets up precisely at seven o'clock, ignoring the protests from his bones after a late night assisting his son and grandsons the day before.
He puts on his boots and helps the dog outside, a chore he had made clear to Master Damian that would never do:
"If you think of yourself capable of having a dog I'm sure that you will not need my assistance taking care of it, you'll have to prove that you are responsible enough."
The air still has remnants of the thunderstorm from last night, the earth makes squishing sounds as he walks through the garden. Mentally, he thinks of the things that must be added to the shopping list.
Perhaps out of fate or sheer habit, he sees himself taking the path toward the cemetery, Titus follows him, tail wagging.
Alfred is in the middle of planning a way to discreetly ask Master Jason if he will give the family the grace of his presence at the next Sunday dinner when the dog starts barking. Alfred's instinct is to go back to the house to grab his shotgun, then that thought is completely drowned by the terror of having Bruce awake this early after such a long night.
"Hush Titus! You will wake the children!", he mutters while approaching the dog.
Martha's grave site is opposite a flower bed that he started cultivating two years after her death, now, in between the thorns, Alfred notices a chunk of white hair trying to dig its way out.
It is a surreal sight, he watches as she pulls herself out of the dirt, arms, and fingernails bleeding thanks to the effort of not drowning in dry land.
The hands are the first thing that triggers the familiarity in his brain, the thumbs had small calluses as a result of sewing and trying to push the needle out of a harder piece of clothing.
Martha had sewn the cuffs of his favorite shirt once.
She coughs out a handful of dirt. Dark brown eyes look up at him, skin marked by scars and wrinkles that he does not recognize.
He had never been a creative man, preferring to keep himself in the realm of reality. In forty five years he forcibly stopped himself from wondering what could have been.
In Alfred's mind, Martha and Thomas would never be a day older than when they left the house that night in April. Still, maybe if he had left himself wonder, this is what an older Martha Wayne would look like.
His first theory is insanity, the second is resurrection.
The last time Martha and Alfred had talked was in England, at the cottage up-country he bought after retiring from his acting career. He looked much different than the man that looked at her, this Alfred was leaner and sharper and the bags under his eyes were deeper. He also did not seem as disturbed seeing someone dig themselves out of a coffin as she would expect.
A few seconds pass before she can pinpoint what is so unnerving about the man: the fact that he is wearing the same carefully pressed suit that he would during his time as her butler.
She gets up, leaning onto her good leg and looking around. The scenery of the Manor's cemetery is familiar, she recognizes the graves of Thomas' relatives and the old three that made shadows on her husband and son's gravestones.
Martha blinks, eyes still adjusting to the light while she rereads what would be Bruce's gravestone.
Martha Wayne: beloved mother, wife, and friend.
A few seconds pass.
The colors of the headstones are slightly warmer than they used to be, one of the branches of the three is missing and the brown of Alfred's eyes is a little darker.
He is still looking at her in complete disbelief.
"Fucking dimensional travel," the conclusion weights on her mind like a boulder.
Pennyworth shushes the dog and starts automatically patting his clothes, attempting to get some of the dirt out. Martha watches intently as he straights himself up, the surprise in his eyes being replaced by profound sadness.
"Mrs. Wayne, I'm afraid you are in need of some medical attention.", he says robotically.
He makes a motion to her bloodied hands and the several cuts from the roses. Her lungs feel as if she swallowed a handful of gravel.
"If you wish you can follow me to the Manor so I can assist you.", he offers her his arm as support.
The graves tell her a very familiar story. That and Pennyworth's presence can lead her to a billion conclusions, but only one truly matters.
She accepts the help of her oldest friend and they both start walking towards Wayne Manor.