Fandom: Batman
Pairing: Bruce Wayne & Male OC, Damian Wayne & Male OC [Platonic]
Rating: Teen
Content: Amnesia, Loss of identity, Blood and gore, Graphic violence, Injuries, Animal abuse, Semi-verbal character
Date originally written: 12th January 2022
Summary: Batman's plan has been created, rehashed and perfected. There's nothing more to do than enact it.

But will it work as intended?

Author's notes: No Omen in this chapter...but there will be in the next one!! This one is mostly in Bruce's point of view.

The plan that Bruce had come up with, on the surface, didn’t seem like the greatest idea, at first. Bruce was entirely willing to admit that his plan was almost reckless, and incredibly risky. But it was also the only plan that he believed might actually work.

Bruce made sure that he would have as many different safety measures put into place as possible when he eventually acted out his plan. The last thing he wanted was to become fatally injured because of an error on his part.

When the gears in Bruce’s head had started to turn as he figured out his plan, he thought about what few weaknesses of Omen’s that he knew of that could be taken advantage of. He knew that Omen had some type of compassion. If the creature didn’t, then Damian being saved from Killer Croc’s jaws would never have occurred, and he’d have another dead son on his hands. If there was one thing Bruce was thankful for, it was Omen’s decision to get involved (even if Omen’s appearance and unknown intentions unnerved him). So, Bruce intended on using that compassion to his advantage.

The plan that Bruce had come up with, of course, was to pretend to be severely injured and use himself as bait to lure Omen in. He hoped that Omen would get curious at an “injured” bat, and try to approach him.

What Bruce intended on doing once he’d successfully lured Omen in...depended entirely on the wolf’s own actions. Bruce didn’t have every single path etched out yet, but he knew exactly what he would do if Omen attacked, or if Omen decided to remain passive.

All Bruce needed to do was convince Superman to stand by in case his plan went sour. Bruce knew that he wouldn’t be able to take the shadow-wolf on his own. Even if all of his family came together and decided to take on Omen, there would still be severe injuries among them...if no one died, of course. So Bruce wasn’t going to take any chances.

He didn’t like the idea of having to ask Superman for help with this case, but Bruce knew where his limits were. He needed some type of backup that would be able to go head-on with Omen if shit hit the fan.

He got out his phone and pressed dial on Clark’s number.

“Okay...so you’re going to lay down on the ground in some alleyway, covered in fake blood to try and lure in an extremely dangerous and powerful shadow...wolf..thing...so you can do...what exactly? Interrogate it? Pet it? Tame it?”

Clark had flown directly to the Batcave the moment Bruce had hung up the phone, telling him that he needed help with something. He was in his full Superman suit, while Bruce sat in half-civilian, half-Batman attire. Clark was leaning against the console of the batcomputer, something which Bruce had told him multiple times to stop doing. Clark kept doing it anyway, because he knew it annoyed him.

“Real blood,” Bruce said, which Clark raised his eyebrows at, “and my plan is to gauge it’s compassion, morality and intentions, not to tame or pet it.”

“Okay...so this ‘Omen’ is intelligent, then?”

“I believe Omen possesses a certain amount of intelligence that I’m unable to firmly categorise as of right now. It could be as intelligent as a regular dog, it could have the intelligence of a 7 year old...or it could be as intelligent as an adult, but I cannot be certain unless I confront it.”

Clark sighed. “Have you thought about...I don’t know... asking them?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at him. “I tried that already. It ran away.”

Clark huffed a small laugh at that. “You mean you chased after them after they were naturally freaked out by Batman’s terrifying visage appearing out of nowhere, and decided to ran away...like any normal person or animal would do?”

Bruce fully glared at him then, but said nothing, and Clark couldn’t help the little smirk that appeared on his face.

“I’ll help, Bruce. I just think there might be more to this than you’re seeing.”

“Which is why I intend on going forth with this plan. If Omen does have bad intentions....Well, I don’t think I need to tell you what might happen if I don’t take action.”

“No...I think I can imagine that pretty well..”

There was a lull in the conversation before Bruce continued with his explanations, his plan c’s, d’s and e’s, and other things he’d considered before he’d drawn up this final plan. Before Bruce could explain any further, however, Clark interrupted him. Again.

“Okay, so when you have this fake fight on the rooftops, are you just going to pretend to have a fight with an imaginary opponent, or will you be staging a fight with someone else?”

“I’ve thought about both strategies, and I believe having an imaginary fight out of Omen’s sight is best. If I were to stage a fight with say, Nightwing or Red Hood, and Omen sees that occur, I would be putting more than just myself in danger. I don’t know how Omen will react to a fight between two vigilantes. I cannot risk it.”

“Right...okay. But what if Omen sees you on the top of a building punching someone that’s not there?” Clark asked.

“You’ll be there, keeping an eye on Omen and it’s position, and it will be your job to let me know exactly where it is and what it’s doing, so that I can act out the imaginary fight without Omen seeing me.”

“Oh! Well...you sure do think of everything, huh?”

It was Bruce’s turn to smirk, then. “Yes, I do.”

An entire month went by without a single peep from the shadow-wolf that Gotham had started to get used to, and it was entirely expected, at this point. But now that a month had gone by, Bruce had started sending Clark out into Gotham to look and hear for any signs of Omen, as Bruce hadn’t had much luck on his end. It unnerved him, but Bruce believed Omen was significantly better at staying hidden in the dark than Batman, and he’d had no choice but to rely on Clark’s heightened senses to try and find Omen.

Bruce didn’t like having to rely so much on others, especially not those with superpowers (or magic), but he also knew when to ask for help. He begrudgingly allowed Superman in Gotham, as long as he did what he was told and didn’t try to solve any of his other cases for him, or stepped on his toes while Bruce was out on the streets doing his work.

One night, after a long patrol, Bruce was in the cave going over case files from that night and a few nights prior, when Clark’s voice came crackling in through his earpiece, serious and alert.

“I think I just saw Omen.”

Bruce quickly put the case files down on table, and navigated the batcomputer to the map of Gotham. “Where?”

“The docks. I just barely caught a glimpse of them, but it was unmistakeably them. Really big wolf, and completely black.”

“That’d be them. Keep following them, and do not let Omen see you for any reason. Stay high above at all times.”

“Got it.”

The comms crackled off after Clark’s voice disappeared, and Bruce quickly got suited up again. He hadn’t taken much of the suit off in the first place, so he only needed to put his gloves, cape and cowl back on. He rushed over to the medical bay and went into the cold storage, where all the blood bags for emergency blood transfusions were kept, and grabbed two smaller ones.

He rushed out of the medical bay, and almost ran directly into Alfred, who was restocking the emergency medical kits with bandages and other items. He looked at the two blood bags Bruce held in his gloved hand, and his brows furrowed.

“Do I need to prepare the med bay for a patient?”

“No. Omen’s been spotted at the docks and I intend to act out my plan.”

Alfred immediately relaxed, but tutted at him instead. “This plan of yours is reckless. I will stay here in the cave and await your return. Do make sure you don’t scare Master Kent away if he tries to help you.”

Bruce nodded in response as he ran directly towards the Batmobile, setting the blood bags in a secure area inside of it before he drove quickly out of the cave, and into the streets of Gotham.

Bruce followed Clark’s directions carefully, having to occasionally redirect the car when Omen suddenly changed directions. He wanted to make sure that he got as close to Omen as possible before he got out of the Batmobile and started traversing the rooftops above. He needed to get into the most advantageous position if this plan of his was going to work how he wanted it to.

Eventually, Bruce believed he’d gotten as close as he could with the Batmobile, and parked it in a dark alleyway, exiting the car with the blood bags in tow as he grappled up to the roof above.

He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, trying to get closer and closer to Omen’s position while also attempting to predict the wolf’s movements at the same time, so Bruce could be a few blocks ahead at all times. He could just barely see Superman flying high above the city, keeping an eye on Omen. He looked like a small speck in the night sky.

“Alright Bruce, I think you’re in position. It’s now or never.”

Bruce grunted in response, and only a few moments later, let out a loud yell. It was more akin to a roar of pain than it was a yell, and a few seconds later he slashed a part of the suit open with a batarang and popped one of the blood bags over the rip in his armour. Then, he threw himself off the roof, and fell into the streets below, breaking his fall on the dumpster beneath him. He was thankful that the building he'd jumped off of wasn’t particularly tall.

As he landed, he rolled off of the dumpster and onto the ground, and he heard a pop sound beneath him. Bruce was immediately concerned that he’d broken something, but when he moved around a bit, he felt only the slight soreness from the fall he’d just had. He didn’t believe anything was broken. As he looked himself over, he saw much more blood than he anticipated flowing onto the concrete underneath him, and it was then that he realised he’d landed directly on top of the other blood bag, popping it open and spraying blood everywhere.

Bruce’s body sagged in relief. He was uninjured, and his error had only made the scene look more authentic to any outsiders that may see him. He just hoped that no good samaritan (or a criminal looking for an easy target) came around to mess with his plan, as he knew they would just scare Omen away from investigating the “injured” Bat.

Clark’s voice crackled in his ear once more, informing him that Omen was zeroing in on his position.

Bruce waited patiently, and hoped that his plan worked as intended.

End notes: ohoho i wonder what will happen...